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 Malawi and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 PIL to the rap 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Visage,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fugs,
Nils Olav,
David Bowie,
Nik Kershaw,
Sun Ra,
Amazonics,
The Slits,
Rapeman,
John Foxx,
Ludus,
Rotary Connection,
Lightning Bolt,
Hasil Adkins,
New York Dolls,
The Pop Group,
Inner City,
Soft Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moss Icon,
Main Source,
Susan Cadogan,
the Slits,
Marvin Gaye,
Reuben Wilson,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Smoke,
Juan Atkins,
The Names,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Rundgren,
Jerry's Kids,
Yaz,
La Düsseldorf,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Severed Heads,
The Gap Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sun City Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Royal Trux,
Surgeon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Altered Images,
Aloha Tigers,
John Holt,
Sonic Youth,
The Doors,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Prunes,
The Real Kids,
Rakim,
Intrusion,
Warsaw,
DNA,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.