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 Indonesia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Iggy Pop to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Lightning Bolt,
Dead Boys,
X-101,
MDC,
One Last Wish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T. Rex,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
Duran Duran,
Thompson Twins,
D'Angelo,
Rakim,
Mr. Review,
Peter and Kerry,
Bluetip,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ituana,
Basic Channel,
Animal Collective,
James White and The Blacks,
Technova,
Can,
Suicide,
Ronan,
Monks,
Funkadelic,
Wally Richardson,
Bronski Beat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Con Funk Shun,
Lakeside,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeff Mills,
Tres Demented,
Masters at Work,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
David McCallum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Visage,
The Last Poets,
Buzzcocks,
Boredoms,
Slick Rick,
Todd Rundgren,
Blossom Toes,
The Human League,
KRS-One,
The Monochrome Set,
The Slits,
Groovy Waters,
Theoretical Girls,
Agitation Free,
Yusef Lateef,
Gang Gang Dance,
Reuben Wilson,
Lou Reed,
Youth Brigade,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.