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 Thailand and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Stereo Dub to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Josef K,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Boz Scaggs,
Television Personalities,
Theoretical Girls,
Tubeway Army,
A Certain Ratio,
the Sonics,
The Cramps,
The Remains,
The Motions,
Dave Gahan,
Fatback Band,
Youth Brigade,
Hashim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bush Tetras,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Simply Red,
Fela Kuti,
Tres Demented,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultravox,
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
Tom Boy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sandy B,
Man Parrish,
a-ha,
Mandrill,
Hardrive,
The Dead C,
Black Flag,
Alice Coltrane,
Monks,
Al Stewart,
Minutemen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Donny Hathaway,
The Zeros,
Gregory Isaacs,
Faust,
E-Dancer,
The Electric Prunes,
One Last Wish,
Gang Starr,
New Order,
Hasil Adkins,
LL Cool J,
Sun Ra,
Malaria!,
Skriet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Desert Stars,
Monolake,
Barrington Levy,
The Walker Brothers,
Circle Jerks,
Scientists,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.