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 Jordan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 J.B.'s to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Inner City,
The Detroit Cobras,
Duran Duran,
Scott Walker,
Gang Green,
Sound Behaviour,
Dark Day,
the Normal,
John Coltrane,
the Human League,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Vogues,
Don Cherry,
Mantronix,
Visage,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Arab on Radar,
Drexciya,
Tears for Fears,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gabor Szabo,
Shuggie Otis,
The Last Poets,
Hardrive,
X-102,
The Durutti Column,
Harmonia,
Massinfluence,
Rosa Yemen,
Yaz,
Das Ding,
Symarip,
Andrew Hill,
Radio Birdman,
a-ha,
Alison Limerick,
The Trojans,
PIL,
Chrome,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tim Buckley,
Lyres,
Masters at Work,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jeff Mills,
The Seeds,
Barry Ungar,
Brick,
The Real Kids,
Ultravox,
Jeff Lynne,
Pantaleimon,
Model 500,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed,
Joey Negro,
Ossler,
Fugazi,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.