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 Mongolia and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Minor Threat to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fortunes,
Visage,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barrington Levy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nirvana,
Kaleidoscope,
The Walker Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soft Cell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spoonie Gee,
Make Up,
Masters at Work,
Zapp,
Kerri Chandler,
Minor Threat,
Johnny Clarke,
David McCallum,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantytec,
Babytalk,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Buckinghams,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
kango's stein massive,
Thompson Twins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nation of Ulysses,
D'Angelo,
Pere Ubu,
Junior Murvin,
Crime,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jawbox,
Dark Day,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roy Ayers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Max Romeo,
Piero Umiliani,
David Axelrod,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
OOIOO,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Drexciya,
Joy Division,
Con Funk Shun,
Los Fastidios,
a-ha,
Unwound,
Cecil Taylor,
Panda Bear,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dirtbombs,
Soulsonic Force,
Scientists,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.