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 Burkina and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Grandmaster Flash to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Germs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Steve Hackett,
the Sonics,
Amon Düül,
Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
Neu!,
Wally Richardson,
ABC,
Nirvana,
Rufus Thomas,
Soulsonic Force,
Accadde A,
Y Pants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crime,
The Dirtbombs,
Ten City,
Radio Birdman,
A Certain Ratio,
Babytalk,
Idris Muhammad,
The Gladiators,
Porter Ricks,
Anakelly,
Niagra,
Peter and Kerry,
Sight & Sound,
June of 44,
The Wake,
Pere Ubu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Alice Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
Ultimate Spinach,
Television,
R.M.O.,
Kurtis Blow,
Ronnie Foster,
Johnny Clarke,
Rekid,
Das Ding,
Shoche,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Byrd,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Erasure,
Bang On A Can,
Slick Rick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grey Daturas,
DJ Sneak,
Siglo XX,
Lebanon Hanover,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.