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 South Sudan and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Knickerbockers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Blossom Toes,
Rites of Spring,
Erasure,
Suburban Knight,
Eric B and Rakim,
Little Man,
Yazoo,
Ituana,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Donny Hathaway,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Moss Icon,
Crime,
Bang On A Can,
Idris Muhammad,
The Star Department,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sight & Sound,
Blancmange,
Swell Maps,
The Walker Brothers,
Prince Buster,
Pere Ubu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Das Ding,
Public Enemy,
Soft Cell,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fat Boys,
Niagra,
a-ha,
The Tremeloes,
The Busters,
Godley & Creme,
Boredoms,
Dual Sessions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scratch Acid,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pole,
Drexciya,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kayak,
Wire,
Sexual Harrassment,
Procol Harum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Excepter,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fugs,
Bauhaus,
Nik Kershaw,
Lakeside,
Lou Christie,
Adolescents,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Golliwogs,
Bob Dylan,
Neu!,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.