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 Hungary and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Scratch Acid to the electroclash 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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Young Marble Giants,
The Techniques,
Erasure,
The Leaves,
Ultra Naté,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Visage,
The Index,
Morten Harket,
Alton Ellis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scratch Acid,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric Copeland,
Arab on Radar,
Man Parrish,
The Mummies,
Jandek,
Jawbox,
The Fugs,
Gang Green,
The Happenings,
Gang Starr,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Toasters,
Tropical Tobacco,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fortunes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Monolake,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Boredoms,
Alphaville,
The Fire Engines,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ornette Coleman,
Laurel Aitken,
Dave Gahan,
The Trojans,
Bobby Sherman,
Khruangbin,
The Birthday Party,
The Slackers,
Howard Jones,
Desert Stars,
Fatback Band,
Don Cherry,
Aswad,
Mr. Review,
Swell Maps,
Fugazi,
Harry Pussy,
Black Bananas,
The Zeros,
Lou Christie,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.