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 Namibia and from Mexico City.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Rakim to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bob Dylan,
The Invisible,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Moon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Talk Talk,
Pole,
Dual Sessions,
The Gladiators,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed,
Circle Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Schoolly D,
Godley & Creme,
Dennis Brown,
Sam Rivers,
The Raincoats,
Sun City Girls,
Gang of Four,
The Neon Judgement,
The Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
China Crisis,
Sixth Finger,
Monks,
The Happenings,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tomorrow,
Blake Baxter,
The Toasters,
The Seeds,
Q and Not U,
The Doobie Brothers,
Index,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Outsiders,
Jimmy McGriff,
Blancmange,
Model 500,
Infiniti,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pulsallama,
Al Stewart,
Robert Wyatt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eddi Front,
Hasil Adkins,
Bronski Beat,
Isaac Hayes,
Excepter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jandek,
Gang Green,
Junior Murvin,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.