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 Finland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Vladislav Delay to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Los Fastidios,
Cymande,
T. Rex,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Litter,
Ludus,
Prince Buster,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Cluster,
Derrick May,
Matthew Bourne,
Basic Channel,
The Doors,
The Dead C,
FM Einheit,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lungfish,
Tears for Fears,
Sam Rivers,
Dave Gahan,
The Beau Brummels,
Yaz,
Young Marble Giants,
Morten Harket,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Pus,
Roxy Music,
Index,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yusef Lateef,
Patti Smith,
Albert Ayler,
The Motions,
Michelle Simonal,
Jacob Miller,
Faust,
Minny Pops,
The Pretty Things,
Bluetip,
Tommy Roe,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers,
Peter and Kerry,
Angry Samoans,
Boredoms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Khruangbin,
Don Cherry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Sound,
MC5,
Mary Jane Girls,
UT,
Heaven 17,
Radio Birdman,
Scrapy,
Josef K,
The Smiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABBA,
Ornette Coleman,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.