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 Nepal and from Edmonton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Trojans to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Derrick Morgan,
Freddie Wadling,
Isaac Hayes,
Amon Düül II,
Eli Mardock,
Mark Hollis,
Rites of Spring,
Matthew Bourne,
Albert Ayler,
Juan Atkins,
Gichy Dan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scan 7,
Jeff Mills,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arcadia,
Kenny Larkin,
T. Rex,
Robert Hood,
Brass Construction,
the Soft Cell,
Arab on Radar,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Starr,
The Residents,
Sight & Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bill Wells,
Rekid,
The Fuzztones,
X-102,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronan,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Brand Nubian,
Todd Terry,
Wings,
Depeche Mode,
The Busters,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rakim,
Jeff Lynne,
Eurythmics,
Bluetip,
the Sonics,
John Lydon,
Peter and Kerry,
Anthony Braxton,
Cal Tjader,
Reuben Wilson,
The Doors,
Pussy Galore,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Modern Lovers,
Mo-Dettes,
Groovy Waters,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.