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 Spain and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
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 synthesizer 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 Reagan Youth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Audionom,
Outsiders,
Infiniti,
X-102,
Camouflage,
The Searchers,
Tom Boy,
The Count Five,
Don Cherry,
Echospace,
Eric B and Rakim,
AZ,
Pierre Henry,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Janne Schatter,
Swans,
Dennis Brown,
Crooked Eye,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Görl,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Technova,
Dead Boys,
Terry Callier,
Robert Hood,
Black Bananas,
The Grass Roots,
David Bowie,
Peter & Gordon,
Young Marble Giants,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bronski Beat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sparks,
Gang Starr,
Niagra,
John Cale,
Con Funk Shun,
Quantec,
Mary Jane Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
The Slits,
Morten Harket,
The Durutti Column,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Barrington Levy,
KRS-One,
The Offenders,
8 Eyed Spy,
F. McDonald,
In Retrospect,
Reagan Youth,
Funkadelic,
Wasted Youth,
Blossom Toes,
Camberwell Now,
The Litter,
The Techniques,
Y Pants,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.