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 Mozambique and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Cameo to the grime 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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Laurel Aitken,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Stooges,
The Gun Club,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Albert Ayler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sight & Sound,
Henry Cow,
John Foxx,
Malaria!,
a-ha,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sister Nancy,
Bill Wells,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Misunderstood,
The Beau Brummels,
UT,
Funkadelic,
Idris Muhammad,
The Happenings,
Throbbing Gristle,
Matthew Bourne,
Anakelly,
Davy DMX,
Duran Duran,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter & Gordon,
Inner City,
Chris & Cosey,
Heaven 17,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Young Rascals,
The Star Department,
Sexual Harrassment,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Magma,
E-Dancer,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joensuu 1685,
Los Fastidios,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marmalade,
Pole,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lou Reed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Saints,
The Wake,
Hot Snakes,
Fat Boys,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.