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 Belarus and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar 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 Rod Modell 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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Steve Hackett,
Wasted Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Pierre Henry,
The Toasters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Howard Jones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bob Dylan,
Sarah Menescal,
Simply Red,
In Retrospect,
John Lydon,
The Trojans,
Derrick May,
Hasil Adkins,
The Young Rascals,
Mandrill,
John Holt,
Sam Rivers,
Dual Sessions,
Sun Ra,
D'Angelo,
The Names,
Donny Hathaway,
Excepter,
Hot Snakes,
Massinfluence,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-102,
Piero Umiliani,
The Sonics,
Robert Hood,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monks,
Dark Day,
Jerry's Kids,
Boredoms,
David McCallum,
Rekid,
Procol Harum,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The American Breed,
Pharoah Sanders,
Moss Icon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
EPMD,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pantytec,
Black Moon,
Scientists,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joyce Sims,
The Happenings,
Rapeman,
The Dave Clark Five,
UT,
China Crisis,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.