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 Belize and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Brand Nubian to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
The Last Poets,
Theoretical Girls,
Anakelly,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Warren Ellis,
The Offenders,
Wolf Eyes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Matthew Bourne,
Wire,
Country Teasers,
Make Up,
cv313,
Rotary Connection,
John Foxx,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mummies,
Q and Not U,
Public Enemy,
The Gun Club,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang of Four,
Maleditus Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Velvet Underground,
Organ,
Hot Snakes,
Oneida,
Cybotron,
Terry Callier,
Michelle Simonal,
Lalann,
Barrington Levy,
The American Breed,
The Grass Roots,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minny Pops,
AZ,
Bill Wells,
Fat Boys,
Mission of Burma,
Minnie Riperton,
Fugazi,
Talk Talk,
The Wake,
Pole,
Babytalk,
Barclay James Harvest,
Camouflage,
Howard Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eve St. Jones,
The Buckinghams,
Juan Atkins,
Wally Richardson,
MC5,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.