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 Portugal and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 EPMD to the grunge 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Peter & Gordon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Wings,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scan 7,
Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
Crime,
Ludus,
Kaleidoscope,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Pus,
the Germs,
Joe Smooth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Motions,
Patti Smith,
Half Japanese,
Minnie Riperton,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Groovy Waters,
Los Fastidios,
Fat Boys,
Bill Near,
Urselle,
Scott Walker,
Andrew Hill,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Livin' Joy,
Siglo XX,
Cybotron,
Infiniti,
Sister Nancy,
Easy Going,
Jawbox,
Ultravox,
Royal Trux,
Khruangbin,
The Buckinghams,
Hasil Adkins,
Theoretical Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
The Move,
The Blackbyrds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Byron Stingily,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MDC,
Mars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Neu!,
Fluxion,
Echospace,
Grandmaster Flash,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oblivians,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dark Day,
X-Ray Spex,
Roxette,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Durutti Column,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.