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 Turkmenistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Divine Comedy to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Country Teasers,
Ultravox,
X-102,
Mandrill,
Pussy Galore,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Bowie,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Blossom Toes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Circle Jerks,
Cybotron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Erasure,
Eden Ahbez,
The Kinks,
Blake Baxter,
Lindisfarne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pylon,
Suburban Knight,
The Move,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Birthday Party,
Cameo,
The Shadows of Knight,
B.T. Express,
Little Man,
The Modern Lovers,
Swell Maps,
The Count Five,
Los Fastidios,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
La Düsseldorf,
Animal Collective,
Amon Düül II,
The Golliwogs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eve St. Jones,
Roxette,
Basic Channel,
The Buckinghams,
Dawn Penn,
Severed Heads,
Kayak,
Joy Division,
Gabor Szabo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Arab on Radar,
James White and The Blacks,
Organ,
The Martian,
Unwound,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Cell,
Wolf Eyes,
Flash Fearless,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.