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 Micronesia and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jerry's Kids to the grime 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun Ra,
Tres Demented,
the Normal,
Susan Cadogan,
Stetsasonic,
Joensuu 1685,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Starr,
The Victims,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Spandau Ballet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fad Gadget,
Johnny Clarke,
Barclay James Harvest,
Audionom,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Girls At Our Best!,
The United States of America,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scratch Acid,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Little Man,
Rites of Spring,
Nirvana,
Blake Baxter,
Ultravox,
Talk Talk,
Barbara Tucker,
Absolute Body Control,
Scion,
Symarip,
Jandek,
Heaven 17,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Von Mondo,
La Düsseldorf,
David Bowie,
Derrick May,
Main Source,
Urselle,
kango's stein massive,
Kevin Saunderson,
Second Layer,
Oneida,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Frankie Knuckles,
Delon & Dalcan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Red Krayola,
Kurtis Blow,
the Sonics,
Amon Düül II,
Scan 7,
Mary Jane Girls,
Andrew Hill,
New York Dolls,
Freddie Wadling,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.