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 Gabon and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gang Green to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Mantronix,
Bob Dylan,
MDC,
UT,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gastr Del Sol,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Hood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Erasure,
Jandek,
Little Man,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Derrick May,
Althea and Donna,
Cecil Taylor,
Piero Umiliani,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-102,
Trumans Water,
The Slits,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dark Day,
Wolf Eyes,
Marine Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cheater Slicks,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
Chris Corsano,
Alphaville,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Martian,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Starr,
Joy Division,
Darondo,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Sherman,
Second Layer,
Gabor Szabo,
Yusef Lateef,
The Toasters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nils Olav,
One Last Wish,
Visage,
Traffic Nightmare,
Iggy Pop,
Harmonia,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Misunderstood,
Crispian St. Peters,
EPMD,
John Lydon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.