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 Colombia and from New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marvin Gaye to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Skriet,
Fad Gadget,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aswad,
Procol Harum,
Marine Girls,
The Slits,
The Seeds,
Adolescents,
Fifty Foot Hose,
OOIOO,
The Cramps,
Tubeway Army,
Dave Gahan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ken Boothe,
Popol Vuh,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gun Club,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rosa Yemen,
Josef K,
Marcia Griffiths,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed,
Rekid,
The Monks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marmalade,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Joe Finger,
Kaleidoscope,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Searchers,
New York Dolls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Negative Approach,
Nils Olav,
Derrick Morgan,
Jandek,
Rotary Connection,
Bronski Beat,
Lucky Dragons,
Slick Rick,
Reagan Youth,
Sister Nancy,
Fat Boys,
Liliput,
Sight & Sound,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fuzztones,
La Düsseldorf,
Sex Pistols,
June Days,
Joy Division,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.