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 India and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba 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 The Velvet Underground to the crunk 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Gang Gang Dance,
T.S.O.L.,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Radiohead,
Swell Maps,
Dave Gahan,
Livin' Joy,
Soulsonic Force,
Reagan Youth,
Liliput,
Tres Demented,
The Red Krayola,
Ludus,
Joy Division,
Freddie Wadling,
Ohio Players,
X-Ray Spex,
Joensuu 1685,
Zapp,
Infiniti,
Josef K,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-102,
The Neon Judgement,
Young Marble Giants,
T. Rex,
Suicide,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Stooges,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sun City Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
Hardrive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
LL Cool J,
The J.B.'s,
Prince Buster,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Music Machine,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Almond,
L. Decosne,
Brothers Johnson,
Average White Band,
Camberwell Now,
Todd Terry,
Lungfish,
David Bowie,
Dead Boys,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fuzztones,
Hot Snakes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sight & Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
The Slackers,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.