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 Fiji and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Eric B and Rakim to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oneida,
The Walker Brothers,
Maleditus Sound,
The Leaves,
OOIOO,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aaron Thompson,
Marmalade,
Kenny Larkin,
Tom Boy,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monks,
Harmonia,
Erasure,
Gastr Del Sol,
Thompson Twins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Young Marble Giants,
Aswad,
Cecil Taylor,
The Slits,
Rufus Thomas,
Rod Modell,
Lakeside,
Flipper,
The Real Kids,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tomorrow,
Al Stewart,
Peter & Gordon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Hood,
Banda Bassotti,
Make Up,
Rosa Yemen,
Eddi Front,
Terry Callier,
Black Moon,
Alton Ellis,
Sex Pistols,
Iggy Pop,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Malaria!,
T.S.O.L.,
Brick,
Quantec,
Desert Stars,
The Last Poets,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mummies,
Hardrive,
Neil Young,
The Dead C,
Electric Prunes,
Moss Icon,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bill Wells,
Sixth Finger,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.