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 El Salvador and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jacob Miller to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Dead Boys,
Pulsallama,
Tom Boy,
Mission of Burma,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Althea and Donna,
The Remains,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pole,
Panda Bear,
Talk Talk,
Scrapy,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grey Daturas,
Nico,
Joyce Sims,
John Foxx,
Lakeside,
X-Ray Spex,
The Last Poets,
Barry Ungar,
June of 44,
Khruangbin,
Youth Brigade,
A Certain Ratio,
The Motions,
Susan Cadogan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
Iggy Pop,
Reagan Youth,
Boredoms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Davy DMX,
Bob Dylan,
The Golliwogs,
The Victims,
Cal Tjader,
Maurizio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magazine,
Lindisfarne,
The Count Five,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool Moe Dee,
OOIOO,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
Nirvana,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Womack,
Scion,
Gichy Dan,
Marmalade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Goldenarms,
Slave,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.