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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Harry Pussy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bill Wells,
Johnny Clarke,
Tom Boy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Juan Atkins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Technova,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
CMW,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The J.B.'s,
Clear Light,
James White and The Blacks,
Iggy Pop,
The Modern Lovers,
Carl Craig,
The Angels of Light,
Soft Cell,
The Skatalites,
Bob Dylan,
Quadrant,
KRS-One,
Can,
the Slits,
Jeru the Damaja,
Funky Four + One,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
Supertramp,
Matthew Bourne,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Quantec,
The Seeds,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gang Starr,
Arab on Radar,
Lalann,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lightning Bolt,
Bill Near,
Black Flag,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dead Boys,
Accadde A,
Frankie Knuckles,
Moebius,
Stetsasonic,
Zapp,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Human League,
Bush Tetras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pierre Henry,
Mr. Review,
Marshall Jefferson,
Livin' Joy,
The Sound,
Wally Richardson,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.