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 Russia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro 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 Niagra to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Kurtis Blow,
Sugar Minott,
Masters at Work,
Godley & Creme,
Bob Dylan,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Cale,
The Monochrome Set,
Sexual Harrassment,
Symarip,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Red Krayola,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Knickerbockers,
Icehouse,
Mr. Review,
Terry Callier,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sound,
Q and Not U,
Mark Hollis,
Chris Corsano,
Trumans Water,
Toni Rubio,
Panda Bear,
Laurel Aitken,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minny Pops,
Altered Images,
Silicon Teens,
Fugazi,
Susan Cadogan,
The Invisible,
Model 500,
Derrick May,
Lou Reed,
Q65,
Jesper Dahlback,
The American Breed,
Crash Course in Science,
Magazine,
Ornette Coleman,
Intrusion,
Funkadelic,
Country Teasers,
Sixth Finger,
Infiniti,
the Fania All-Stars,
Zapp,
Eric Copeland,
Surgeon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Motorama,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tubeway Army,
Soulsonic Force,
Soft Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Real Kids,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.