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 Tanzania and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator 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 KRS-One to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Cowsills,
Harpers Bizarre,
Spandau Ballet,
Animal Collective,
Todd Terry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Maleditus Sound,
Pole,
Aloha Tigers,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
Susan Cadogan,
ABC,
Funky Four + One,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nils Olav,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Donald Byrd,
Pagans,
Main Source,
Negative Approach,
The Star Department,
Gichy Dan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Boredoms,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Arab on Radar,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Dolphy,
Altered Images,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Little Man,
Cymande,
Frankie Knuckles,
Organ,
The Evens,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Angels of Light,
Matthew Halsall,
Patti Smith,
Monks,
The Smoke,
T. Rex,
Buzzcocks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pussy Galore,
Stiv Bators,
Ornette Coleman,
Henry Cow,
Wings,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mars,
The Martian,
Moby Grape,
Reuben Wilson,
Aaron Thompson,
Radiohead,
48th St. Collective,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.