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 Macedonia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the dance 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Nation of Ulysses,
Judy Mowatt,
The Wake,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Idris Muhammad,
John Holt,
Malaria!,
Mantronix,
Reuben Wilson,
OOIOO,
Dawn Penn,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Talk Talk,
Agent Orange,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Angry Samoans,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Moody Blues,
Mark Hollis,
Toni Rubio,
Anthony Braxton,
Gabor Szabo,
Barrington Levy,
MDC,
the Germs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Victims,
Babytalk,
Shuggie Otis,
Bad Manners,
Magma,
Brand Nubian,
Chris Corsano,
Ponytail,
The Music Machine,
The Searchers,
Boz Scaggs,
Soul II Soul,
T. Rex,
E-Dancer,
Lalo Schifrin,
8 Eyed Spy,
Can,
Graham Central Station,
John Foxx,
Suicide,
the Normal,
Juan Atkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scan 7,
Kaleidoscope,
Sparks,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tres Demented,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Lydon,
Desert Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.