Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Luxembourg and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Detroit Cobras to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mad Mike,
Jandek,
Metal Thangz,
Dead Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Easy Going,
JFA,
The Buckinghams,
The Motions,
Jacob Miller,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Franke,
Mantronix,
Little Man,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Albert Ayler,
Terrestrial Tones,
Erykah Badu,
E-Dancer,
Moby Grape,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ronnie Foster,
Suicide,
Tom Boy,
Massinfluence,
The Kinks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dark Day,
Deadbeat,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nik Kershaw,
Newcleus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Josef K,
Funky Four + One,
X-101,
Crash Course in Science,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fall,
Suburban Knight,
Khruangbin,
David Bowie,
Icehouse,
John Coltrane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
the Bar-Kays,
Todd Rundgren,
Procol Harum,
Idris Muhammad,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Stooges,
Donald Byrd,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alphaville,
Radiohead,
Bobby Byrd,
Faust,
Lungfish,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.