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 Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Woodstock and Bremen.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Flesh Eaters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Deadbeat,
Gang Starr,
John Lydon,
Lou Christie,
Eve St. Jones,
Alice Coltrane,
Audionom,
Graham Central Station,
Pantytec,
Public Image Ltd.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Flamin' Groovies,
Morten Harket,
EPMD,
Country Teasers,
Procol Harum,
Simply Red,
Johnny Osbourne,
10cc,
Boz Scaggs,
Fatback Band,
Duran Duran,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Banda Bassotti,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brass Construction,
Amon Düül II,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Buzzcocks,
Sun City Girls,
Black Moon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Pus,
David Axelrod,
Peter & Gordon,
Agitation Free,
Pet Shop Boys,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blackbyrds,
New Order,
The Black Dice,
Tres Demented,
The Grass Roots,
Crash Course in Science,
Nico,
Tommy Roe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Section 25,
Dave Gahan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fad Gadget,
Sonic Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultra Naté,
Roy Ayers,
The Golliwogs,
Pantaleimon,
Neu!,
Mark Hollis,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.