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 Mauritius and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eden Ahbez to the jazz 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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Scion,
the Slits,
The Five Americans,
Tres Demented,
The Dave Clark Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Vogues,
Matthew Halsall,
Bush Tetras,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Black Flag,
Graham Central Station,
Buzzcocks,
Derrick May,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jeru the Damaja,
R.M.O.,
LL Cool J,
Masters at Work,
Minutemen,
Yazoo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Faust,
Black Bananas,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Alarm Clocks,
Zero Boys,
The Black Dice,
Robert Görl,
Skriet,
The United States of America,
Rites of Spring,
Popol Vuh,
The Music Machine,
World's Most,
Outsiders,
JFA,
Pussy Galore,
Silicon Teens,
Alphaville,
Joe Smooth,
Crime,
Average White Band,
Visage,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fugs,
Kaleidoscope,
Lower 48,
Wire,
Aaron Thompson,
AZ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cecil Taylor,
Bad Manners,
Toni Rubio,
John Lydon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Royal Trux,
The Slackers,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.