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 Slovenia 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 KRS-One to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
The Sonics,
Big Daddy Kane,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Archie Shepp,
The J.B.'s,
The Selecter,
Nico,
Liliput,
The Raincoats,
Grey Daturas,
Trumans Water,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blancmange,
Morten Harket,
Sex Pistols,
Zero Boys,
Bauhaus,
Todd Terry,
Alice Coltrane,
Vainqueur,
Flipper,
The Skatalites,
T. Rex,
The Blues Magoos,
10cc,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amazonics,
Minor Threat,
Ultravox,
Tears for Fears,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zapp,
Man Parrish,
Vladislav Delay,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Kinks,
Faraquet,
The Seeds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
ABC,
The Dead C,
Bronski Beat,
Byron Stingily,
The Velvet Underground,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang of Four,
Piero Umiliani,
Erykah Badu,
The Smiths,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stiv Bators,
Silicon Teens,
Sun City Girls,
Cameo,
The Slits,
June of 44,
Derrick Morgan,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.