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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sonic Youth to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Public Enemy,
Symarip,
Tropical Tobacco,
DJ Style,
the Normal,
Carl Craig,
The American Breed,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Excepter,
Soul II Soul,
The Five Americans,
Dark Day,
Schoolly D,
Dorothy Ashby,
Amon Düül II,
Lyres,
Curtis Mayfield,
In Retrospect,
Silicon Teens,
Colin Newman,
The Pop Group,
The Smoke,
Marine Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Cheater Slicks,
Average White Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hot Snakes,
Prince Buster,
Wasted Youth,
Pantytec,
Sam Rivers,
Organ,
Camouflage,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moebius,
The Invisible,
Lungfish,
Glenn Branca,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Sonics,
The Slits,
Theoretical Girls,
Tubeway Army,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kenny Larkin,
Duran Duran,
Khruangbin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rakim,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang On A Can,
The Knickerbockers,
Wally Richardson,
Don Cherry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eurythmics,
Henry Cow,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.