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 Venezuela and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Y Pants,
Moss Icon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June Days,
Panda Bear,
Tears for Fears,
Pantytec,
Cecil Taylor,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alison Limerick,
These Immortal Souls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mandrill,
Fad Gadget,
Eli Mardock,
Tomorrow,
Black Pus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Barry Ungar,
Masters at Work,
The Toasters,
Index,
Gong,
The Cowsills,
Robert Hood,
Nico,
Kerri Chandler,
The J.B.'s,
Groovy Waters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Man Parrish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wolf Eyes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Skarface,
The Last Poets,
Technova,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Popol Vuh,
ABC,
Ituana,
Eric Dolphy,
The Five Americans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Human League,
Soul II Soul,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soft Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Tres Demented,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Mr. Review,
Shuggie Otis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rotary Connection,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Litter,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.