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 Ecuador and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Fela Kuti,
Ten City,
Index,
Country Teasers,
Model 500,
The Kinks,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scion,
The Moleskins,
Barry Ungar,
Scientists,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Faust,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scratch Acid,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tres Demented,
In Retrospect,
The Five Americans,
Marc Almond,
Patti Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
Black Pus,
The Gories,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Christie,
Gang of Four,
Amon Düül,
Jacques Brel,
Brick,
The Blues Magoos,
Idris Muhammad,
World's Most,
Mars,
Little Man,
Oneida,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Surgeon,
The Skatalites,
Soul Sonic Force,
Al Stewart,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Babytalk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Move,
Depeche Mode,
the Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Bobby Byrd,
The Associates,
Bizarre Inc.,
Neil Young,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare,
Skarface,
The Music Machine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.