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 Mongolia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang Starr to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gun Club,
June of 44,
John Lydon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Crash Course in Science,
Popol Vuh,
World's Most,
Jandek,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quando Quango,
Unwound,
The Victims,
Das Ding,
Roxy Music,
Television,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mandrill,
Funky Four + One,
Simply Red,
The Busters,
Sandy B,
The Divine Comedy,
Sam Rivers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
New Age Steppers,
Pierre Henry,
Joy Division,
MC5,
The Gap Band,
X-102,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The New Christs,
Desert Stars,
The Gladiators,
Von Mondo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hoover,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marshall Jefferson,
Josef K,
Lindisfarne,
Piero Umiliani,
Aloha Tigers,
Joe Smooth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
The Knickerbockers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Coltrane,
Sparks,
Pole,
Nils Olav,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Golliwogs,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.