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 Slovakia and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 Basic Channel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Divine Comedy,
the Soft Cell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nico,
Theoretical Girls,
Yazoo,
Ronan,
Audionom,
Q65,
Harry Pussy,
Stetsasonic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
John Holt,
The Names,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Green,
Cymande,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Oblivians,
ABBA,
Johnny Clarke,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Porter Ricks,
Spandau Ballet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Music Machine,
The Mojo Men,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Prunes,
Erasure,
Sparks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crash Course in Science,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-101,
Flipper,
JFA,
Half Japanese,
Vladislav Delay,
Sex Pistols,
E-Dancer,
CMW,
48th St. Collective,
Simply Red,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Wyatt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Unrelated Segments,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Organ,
The Busters,
Blake Baxter,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nirvana,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.