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 Mauritius and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the punk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
The Raincoats,
The Gap Band,
Aural Exciters,
Neil Young,
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Mills,
Kaleidoscope,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donald Byrd,
Camouflage,
Excepter,
Black Bananas,
Mission of Burma,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Magma,
The Monks,
Q and Not U,
Intrusion,
Wasted Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
LL Cool J,
Lightning Bolt,
Joy Division,
The Techniques,
Cluster,
D'Angelo,
The Motions,
EPMD,
Slick Rick,
Max Romeo,
The Neon Judgement,
Wally Richardson,
Man Parrish,
The Music Machine,
Gregory Isaacs,
Niagra,
The Durutti Column,
Nirvana,
Grey Daturas,
The Moleskins,
Mark Hollis,
MC5,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joey Negro,
Pagans,
The Fall,
Essential Logic,
Amon Düül II,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Blackbyrds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sonics,
China Crisis,
Brand Nubian,
Little Man,
Junior Murvin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Janne Schatter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.