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 Norway and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roy Ayers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Trumans Water,
the Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Negative Approach,
The Electric Prunes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Smog,
The Fall,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Trojans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sugar Minott,
Agitation Free,
Black Pus,
Soft Cell,
Rakim,
Guru Guru,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
U.S. Maple,
Duran Duran,
One Last Wish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dark Day,
Davy DMX,
Reagan Youth,
Inner City,
Khruangbin,
Andrew Hill,
Reuben Wilson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Easy Going,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gladiators,
Joey Negro,
The Martian,
The Dead C,
Sun City Girls,
Grey Daturas,
Bronski Beat,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Young Rascals,
Monolake,
The Black Dice,
Model 500,
X-Ray Spex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeff Mills,
Roy Ayers,
Jacob Miller,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fortunes,
The Motions,
Archie Shepp,
Crash Course in Science,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Brand Nubian,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.