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 Finland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Easy Going to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Anthony Braxton,
Bill Wells,
Zapp,
Dead Boys,
kango's stein massive,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Graham Central Station,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Chris & Cosey,
Eli Mardock,
the Slits,
Audionom,
E-Dancer,
Goldenarms,
The Velvet Underground,
The Star Department,
Symarip,
The Kinks,
Joe Finger,
Clear Light,
Marvin Gaye,
Maleditus Sound,
Sarah Menescal,
Parry Music,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Newcleus,
Franke,
Japan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mad Mike,
Gang Gang Dance,
Derrick May,
The Happenings,
Rapeman,
The Zeros,
In Retrospect,
Mars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Babytalk,
Flamin' Groovies,
Unrelated Segments,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nirvana,
The Gun Club,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rufus Thomas,
Lakeside,
Mo-Dettes,
Intrusion,
Scientists,
Gang of Four,
DNA,
Rosa Yemen,
Bang On A Can,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.