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 Rwanda and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the grunge 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Anakelly,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Malaria!,
The Real Kids,
Ludus,
Blossom Toes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cal Tjader,
The Fall,
U.S. Maple,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Zeros,
Dave Gahan,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Evens,
Saccharine Trust,
Accadde A,
Crime,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rod Modell,
the Sonics,
Matthew Halsall,
Cluster,
The Electric Prunes,
Yellowson,
B.T. Express,
Symarip,
The Litter,
Monks,
The Move,
Zero Boys,
X-101,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Excepter,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Swell Maps,
June of 44,
Marc Almond,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rapeman,
Gang Starr,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultravox,
These Immortal Souls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fuzztones,
Nils Olav,
Tears for Fears,
Qualms,
Shuggie Otis,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
L. Decosne,
Public Enemy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.