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 Fiji and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultimate Spinach to the crunk 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skarface,
Idris Muhammad,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roxette,
World's Most,
Godley & Creme,
Toni Rubio,
Shoche,
Moby Grape,
Carl Craig,
The Walker Brothers,
Delta 5,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Little Man,
Sparks,
Lou Christie,
Tears for Fears,
Average White Band,
Sister Nancy,
Cybotron,
Jerry's Kids,
Sarah Menescal,
Leonard Cohen,
Mark Hollis,
Model 500,
the Soft Cell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul II Soul,
cv313,
Ossler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Brick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ronan,
Kas Product,
The Sonics,
Chrome,
Qualms,
Negative Approach,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Piero Umiliani,
La Düsseldorf,
Wings,
The Searchers,
Quadrant,
Niagra,
Ice-T,
The Move,
The Kinks,
Scion,
MDC,
Nick Fraelich,
Maurizio,
Joe Finger,
Bob Dylan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rod Modell,
Robert Görl,
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.