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 Tajikistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
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 oboe 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 Quadrant to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cramps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pole,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cymande,
Rufus Thomas,
The Invisible,
Roger Hodgson,
Bill Wells,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lucky Dragons,
The Litter,
Skarface,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharoah Sanders,
T.S.O.L.,
Nas,
The Dead C,
K-Klass,
Brand Nubian,
Amazonics,
The Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Babytalk,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Mummies,
Minutemen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Half Japanese,
The Cowsills,
Bob Dylan,
AZ,
Andrew Hill,
The Music Machine,
Royal Trux,
The Gories,
Fat Boys,
Kurtis Blow,
The Seeds,
Japan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nils Olav,
New Order,
Howard Jones,
Shuggie Otis,
Ornette Coleman,
Quantec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Adolescents,
Skaos,
Simply Red,
The Monochrome Set,
Nirvana,
DJ Style,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rapeman,
Popol Vuh,
Laurel Aitken,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.