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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Deadbeat to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Royal Trux,
Dennis Brown,
The Gories,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grandmaster Flash,
Quantec,
The Modern Lovers,
Steve Hackett,
Scrapy,
Camouflage,
Magazine,
Idris Muhammad,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Black Dice,
Make Up,
Kenny Larkin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chris & Cosey,
Visage,
Inner City,
The Golliwogs,
Cecil Taylor,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick May,
The Searchers,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Buckinghams,
Television Personalities,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Das Ding,
UT,
The Gap Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Public Image Ltd.,
B.T. Express,
Los Fastidios,
Henry Cow,
Chrome,
Slave,
Gang Starr,
Fluxion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Spandau Ballet,
Yazoo,
David McCallum,
Shoche,
Alison Limerick,
Alton Ellis,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
Q and Not U,
Sister Nancy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
K-Klass,
The Knickerbockers,
Procol Harum,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.