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 Suriname and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mission of Burma to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gories,
Urselle,
T.S.O.L.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Toni Rubio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jerry's Kids,
Niagra,
Sight & Sound,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Sherman,
The Modern Lovers,
The Velvet Underground,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Danielle Patucci,
E-Dancer,
Soul II Soul,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Man Parrish,
Joyce Sims,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
EPMD,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joy Division,
Brick,
Sex Pistols,
Popol Vuh,
Bauhaus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Interpol,
Amon Düül II,
Lalann,
Schoolly D,
Warsaw,
David Axelrod,
Trumans Water,
A Certain Ratio,
The Remains,
The Birthday Party,
Dead Boys,
The Residents,
Half Japanese,
Sexual Harrassment,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Young Marble Giants,
The Music Machine,
Little Man,
Sister Nancy,
Amazonics,
Minny Pops,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Misunderstood,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.