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 Bulgaria and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Chris & Cosey to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kurtis Blow,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Smiths,
Ice-T,
The Doors,
Gang of Four,
Carl Craig,
Magazine,
The Kinks,
Minutemen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Max Romeo,
Matthew Bourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Arab on Radar,
OOIOO,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Technova,
Monks,
The Monks,
CMW,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Von Mondo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scratch Acid,
Country Teasers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Can,
X-Ray Spex,
DJ Style,
Sarah Menescal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ludus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Harry Pussy,
Pantytec,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vainqueur,
Junior Murvin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wolf Eyes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brass Construction,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bluetip,
Inner City,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Flag,
The Sisters of Mercy,
kango's stein massive,
The Leaves,
Shoche,
Donny Hathaway,
Young Marble Giants,
U.S. Maple,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.