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 Congo and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sun City Girls to the punk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Eddi Front,
Robert Wyatt,
Rufus Thomas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Magazine,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Q65,
Bill Wells,
Brass Construction,
The Invisible,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Count Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Busters,
Mission of Burma,
Eric Dolphy,
The Red Krayola,
Dual Sessions,
Con Funk Shun,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roxette,
Hot Snakes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Inner City,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dead Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
R.M.O.,
The Gun Club,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Make Up,
Sound Behaviour,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultra Naté,
Delta 5,
The Five Americans,
Grauzone,
CMW,
Kurtis Blow,
Junior Murvin,
Eve St. Jones,
Arab on Radar,
Deadbeat,
The Moleskins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lakeside,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eli Mardock,
the Sonics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rapeman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Sparks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.