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 Ireland and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the punk 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Ken Boothe,
Unwound,
Ituana,
Joe Finger,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Neon Judgement,
Piero Umiliani,
These Immortal Souls,
The Real Kids,
Surgeon,
Desert Stars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Camouflage,
10cc,
Blossom Toes,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Victims,
The Fugs,
Dawn Penn,
Outsiders,
U.S. Maple,
Brass Construction,
a-ha,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Byron Stingily,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pulsallama,
Reagan Youth,
Black Bananas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Connie Case,
Spandau Ballet,
Guru Guru,
Gichy Dan,
The Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Technova,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Motorama,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Suicide,
Negative Approach,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marmalade,
Shuggie Otis,
Los Fastidios,
Massinfluence,
The Smiths,
UT,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
Michelle Simonal,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Henry Cow,
Adolescents,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joy Division,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.