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 South Africa and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tokyo.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Audionom record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
The Flesh Eaters,
Shuggie Otis,
Josef K,
Sällskapet,
Brick,
Wolf Eyes,
Amazonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sandy B,
Sun Ra,
Von Mondo,
Main Source,
Animal Collective,
Subhumans,
Quando Quango,
Michelle Simonal,
Yaz,
Buzzcocks,
Faust,
Ronan,
Accadde A,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Spandau Ballet,
Joensuu 1685,
Tubeway Army,
The Mummies,
Das Ding,
Intrusion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Pretty Things,
Piero Umiliani,
Arcadia,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mad Mike,
Young Marble Giants,
Byron Stingily,
Suicide,
June Days,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kool Moe Dee,
Country Joe & The Fish,
China Crisis,
Carl Craig,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare,
Ken Boothe,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Christie,
Hashim,
La Düsseldorf,
Anakelly,
Groovy Waters,
R.M.O.,
Ponytail,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
K-Klass,
Circle Jerks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marine Girls,
Graham Central Station,
The Beau Brummels,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.