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 Sierra Leone and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Erasure to the grunge 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
David McCallum,
Can,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quantec,
DNA,
Audionom,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pole,
Qualms,
Charles Mingus,
Aaron Thompson,
R.M.O.,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Severed Heads,
Niagra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Suburban Knight,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lalann,
Jacob Miller,
Ice-T,
The Young Rascals,
Susan Cadogan,
Malaria!,
The Black Dice,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gabor Szabo,
Sight & Sound,
The Vogues,
Sarah Menescal,
The American Breed,
Massinfluence,
Dead Boys,
The Remains,
Country Teasers,
Freddie Wadling,
Girls At Our Best!,
10cc,
Radio Birdman,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fear,
The Mummies,
Zero Boys,
Black Pus,
The Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eurythmics,
Grey Daturas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Gun Club,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mad Mike,
Duran Duran,
Ohio Players,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Neu!,
Clear Light,
Stetsasonic,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.