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 Turkmenistan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rufus Thomas to the rap 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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Scientists,
Pagans,
Josef K,
Harry Pussy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Todd Terry,
Gong,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cheater Slicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
JFA,
Black Moon,
Fugazi,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Slackers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Slits,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Agent Orange,
Nico,
H. Thieme,
The Real Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
Technova,
The Beau Brummels,
Skaos,
The American Breed,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Foxx,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hot Snakes,
EPMD,
Fad Gadget,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fat Boys,
MC5,
David McCallum,
The Count Five,
Bronski Beat,
The Knickerbockers,
Max Romeo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moss Icon,
Scratch Acid,
The Remains,
Charles Mingus,
The Monochrome Set,
A Certain Ratio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Television,
Wally Richardson,
Khruangbin,
KRS-One,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Das Ding,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.