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 Tonga and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pantaleimon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Spandau Ballet,
Carl Craig,
Rod Modell,
These Immortal Souls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
48th St. Collective,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spoonie Gee,
Radio Birdman,
Bush Tetras,
DNA,
Lower 48,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Suburban Knight,
Soul Sonic Force,
MDC,
Symarip,
Bronski Beat,
La Düsseldorf,
Lucky Dragons,
The Gladiators,
Bob Dylan,
the Normal,
Lightning Bolt,
Juan Atkins,
Mark Hollis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Smoke,
Hot Snakes,
Donald Byrd,
Dead Boys,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Barracudas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boz Scaggs,
Stiv Bators,
The Cowsills,
Altered Images,
The Monks,
Tom Boy,
Jerry's Kids,
Jawbox,
Crash Course in Science,
Los Fastidios,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Wyatt,
PIL,
Motorama,
Metal Thangz,
Barbara Tucker,
LL Cool J,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonic Youth,
Kas Product,
Traffic Nightmare,
Don Cherry,
Absolute Body Control,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.