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 Ivory Coast and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Victims to the crunk 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Nick Fraelich,
Warsaw,
Minor Threat,
the Bar-Kays,
Delta 5,
Judy Mowatt,
MDC,
Funkadelic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Star Department,
Minutemen,
Anakelly,
The Young Rascals,
Interpol,
The United States of America,
The Monks,
Main Source,
X-Ray Spex,
Drexciya,
Faust,
Alphaville,
The Blackbyrds,
The Divine Comedy,
Organ,
Infiniti,
Duran Duran,
The Sonics,
The Gun Club,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Kinks,
Lalann,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Visage,
Ice-T,
Sugar Minott,
Wasted Youth,
Black Pus,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thompson Twins,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mo-Dettes,
Popol Vuh,
Deepchord,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Janne Schatter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sandy B,
Fela Kuti,
the Association,
The Offenders,
Dark Day,
David Bowie,
Buzzcocks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nation of Ulysses,
OOIOO,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.