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 Bangladesh and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
The Gun Club,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
Kayak,
Pylon,
Amon Düül,
The Monochrome Set,
Bronski Beat,
Yazoo,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cure,
Arcadia,
Silicon Teens,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eden Ahbez,
The Neon Judgement,
Warsaw,
Suicide,
Unrelated Segments,
Donald Byrd,
Television,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kerri Chandler,
Jimmy McGriff,
Public Image Ltd.,
Little Man,
Hasil Adkins,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed,
T.S.O.L.,
Dead Boys,
Aaron Thompson,
Andrew Hill,
Blossom Toes,
Guru Guru,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slits,
Monks,
In Retrospect,
Soul II Soul,
The J.B.'s,
Y Pants,
The Selecter,
Ronan,
Peter & Gordon,
Dennis Brown,
The Moody Blues,
Thompson Twins,
Eli Mardock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
KRS-One,
Tom Boy,
H. Thieme,
Public Enemy,
Chrome,
David Bowie,
Scan 7,
the Bar-Kays,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.