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 Sudan and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba 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 Radiopuhelimet to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Arcadia,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeff Mills,
The American Breed,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tears for Fears,
Fad Gadget,
Pharoah Sanders,
Reagan Youth,
Kaleidoscope,
Qualms,
The Smoke,
The Birthday Party,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Spandau Ballet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eden Ahbez,
Nils Olav,
The Last Poets,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sex Pistols,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Angels of Light,
Carl Craig,
Organ,
Archie Shepp,
The United States of America,
Sonic Youth,
Lindisfarne,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gladiators,
Neil Young,
Stockholm Monsters,
Oblivians,
Banda Bassotti,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Eric Dolphy,
Fear,
The Slits,
Bauhaus,
Model 500,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Stetsasonic,
Marmalade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Cell,
Interpol,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dennis Brown,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.