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 New Zealand and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stockholm Monsters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Sonny Sharrock,
ABBA,
Pantytec,
Echospace,
Depeche Mode,
Suburban Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Masters at Work,
Anthony Braxton,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Motorama,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kenny Larkin,
Silicon Teens,
Royal Trux,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Copeland,
Reuben Wilson,
Livin' Joy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mr. Review,
The American Breed,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Godley & Creme,
The Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Young Rascals,
The Gun Club,
Buzzcocks,
Alice Coltrane,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aloha Tigers,
Patti Smith,
Yellowson,
The Star Department,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric Dolphy,
Crash Course in Science,
Tomorrow,
Carl Craig,
The Angels of Light,
Deakin,
T. Rex,
Pere Ubu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jandek,
Television Personalities,
Delta 5,
Sun City Girls,
Amon Düül,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.