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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sarah Menescal to the grunge 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Urselle,
The Real Kids,
Schoolly D,
H. Thieme,
Yellowson,
Cameo,
Pierre Henry,
These Immortal Souls,
Excepter,
Donald Byrd,
Flipper,
Rekid,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Foxx,
Panda Bear,
Sugar Minott,
Mandrill,
KRS-One,
Scan 7,
China Crisis,
The Searchers,
Pylon,
Suburban Knight,
Jesper Dahlback,
Blake Baxter,
Subhumans,
John Cale,
Minor Threat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-101,
Arab on Radar,
The Evens,
Zero Boys,
John Holt,
The Mojo Men,
48th St. Collective,
Sällskapet,
Joyce Sims,
the Bar-Kays,
Supertramp,
Zapp,
The Wake,
The Selecter,
The Offenders,
New York Dolls,
Arcadia,
The Last Poets,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pet Shop Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fugs,
Cybotron,
The Gap Band,
Robert Wyatt,
The Durutti Column,
Connie Case,
Technova,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.