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 Nigeria and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Real Kids to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Janne Schatter,
Adolescents,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Anakelly,
Cameo,
Electric Prunes,
Nik Kershaw,
The Red Krayola,
Nico,
The Five Americans,
Smog,
The Selecter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lalann,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Silicon Teens,
Leonard Cohen,
Roy Ayers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Graham Central Station,
John Cale,
FM Einheit,
Ice-T,
The Star Department,
Black Bananas,
The Techniques,
Von Mondo,
Marine Girls,
The Standells,
Reagan Youth,
Andrew Hill,
Unwound,
Cecil Taylor,
OOIOO,
Blossom Toes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gabor Szabo,
Aural Exciters,
Main Source,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Bar-Kays,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joensuu 1685,
New York Dolls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
MDC,
Soft Cell,
The Invisible,
the Human League,
Soulsonic Force,
KRS-One,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lakeside,
The Neon Judgement,
Cheater Slicks,
Symarip,
The Buckinghams,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mark Hollis,
Stetsasonic,
Masters at Work,
The Misunderstood,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.