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 Zimbabwe and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 güiro 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 Maleditus Sound to the jazz 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Vainqueur,
Guru Guru,
Archie Shepp,
Hardrive,
Glenn Branca,
Agitation Free,
Ronan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agent Orange,
Easy Going,
Oblivians,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jacques Brel,
L. Decosne,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tom Boy,
Cymande,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Wells,
ABBA,
The Standells,
Joensuu 1685,
Wally Richardson,
The Golliwogs,
The Litter,
Ossler,
Hasil Adkins,
Peter and Kerry,
Mr. Review,
Shuggie Otis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang of Four,
Chris Corsano,
Pierre Henry,
Fat Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronnie Foster,
Leonard Cohen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Talk Talk,
Wasted Youth,
Swans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
F. McDonald,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Index,
Graham Central Station,
FM Einheit,
Dave Gahan,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Durutti Column,
The Gun Club,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brand Nubian,
The Electric Prunes,
X-102,
Aural Exciters,
10cc,
Judy Mowatt,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.