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 Armenia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin 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 Crispian St. Peters to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
China Crisis,
Soul II Soul,
Zapp,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Hashim,
Con Funk Shun,
Flash Fearless,
Fatback Band,
The Martian,
Liliput,
The Smiths,
The Doors,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Stiv Bators,
Stetsasonic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Q65,
F. McDonald,
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
Jeff Mills,
Mandrill,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Neon Judgement,
Wolf Eyes,
Warsaw,
The Vogues,
Bill Wells,
Steve Hackett,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Neil Young,
Ludus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Guru Guru,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Davy DMX,
Sight & Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
Vainqueur,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Blake Baxter,
AZ,
The Monochrome Set,
Boz Scaggs,
Joyce Sims,
Lalann,
Donny Hathaway,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Foxx,
X-102,
Bobby Womack,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.