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 South Sudan 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Busters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
The Smiths,
La Düsseldorf,
Radio Birdman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Thompson Twins,
Ronan,
Stetsasonic,
Monolake,
Minny Pops,
The Fall,
Danielle Patucci,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cybotron,
Dave Gahan,
Alison Limerick,
Aswad,
Severed Heads,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sonics,
The Residents,
Chrome,
Silicon Teens,
Subhumans,
Terry Callier,
The Real Kids,
Eden Ahbez,
Rod Modell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fat Boys,
Royal Trux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Y Pants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Bowie,
Nick Fraelich,
In Retrospect,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Section 25,
Faust,
Leonard Cohen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Country Teasers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wally Richardson,
Junior Murvin,
Skaos,
ABC,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
D'Angelo,
Stereo Dub,
Cecil Taylor,
David McCallum,
Rekid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bob Dylan,
The Neon Judgement,
Slave,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.