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 Dominican Republic and from Bologna.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Saccharine Trust to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
the Sonics,
Pole,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Motions,
Bluetip,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eli Mardock,
Model 500,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dead Boys,
Stiv Bators,
Interpol,
Graham Central Station,
Unwound,
This Heat,
Connie Case,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camouflage,
Harmonia,
The Fortunes,
Can,
Wolf Eyes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Urselle,
Popol Vuh,
Ohio Players,
H. Thieme,
Basic Channel,
Kerri Chandler,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nico,
Pylon,
DNA,
B.T. Express,
Shoche,
Eden Ahbez,
Kurtis Blow,
Marc Almond,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Absolute Body Control,
Byron Stingily,
Joy Division,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Litter,
Reuben Wilson,
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gladiators,
Tres Demented,
Yusef Lateef,
Simply Red,
The Seeds,
Section 25,
Angry Samoans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Funkadelic,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Beau Brummels,
June Days,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.