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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the grunge 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Suicide,
The Slits,
Howard Jones,
Banda Bassotti,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ten City,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Kinks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kerri Chandler,
The Residents,
Monolake,
Roxette,
Man Parrish,
This Heat,
Con Funk Shun,
Moss Icon,
Hashim,
Aural Exciters,
Pylon,
Matthew Bourne,
MC5,
Reagan Youth,
Nils Olav,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aswad,
Chris Corsano,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scientists,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Star Department,
Sonny Sharrock,
Erasure,
Subhumans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Wyatt,
The Knickerbockers,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Green,
Eurythmics,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blancmange,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Index,
Q and Not U,
Hasil Adkins,
Barry Ungar,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Electric Prunes,
Pantaleimon,
Amon Düül,
Organ,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Niagra,
Scion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tubeway Army,
the Sonics,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.