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 Kiribati and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rufus Thomas 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Pantytec,
The Vogues,
The Invisible,
Aaron Thompson,
the Normal,
Brass Construction,
The Last Poets,
Television Personalities,
John Lydon,
Joyce Sims,
LL Cool J,
Cecil Taylor,
Nas,
Maleditus Sound,
X-101,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quando Quango,
Idris Muhammad,
Easy Going,
Pylon,
The Electric Prunes,
Urselle,
Sun City Girls,
Robert Wyatt,
Skarface,
Fad Gadget,
Massinfluence,
Heaven 17,
David Bowie,
The Beau Brummels,
Neu!,
Agent Orange,
Barbara Tucker,
The Trojans,
Japan,
Qualms,
Mad Mike,
Schoolly D,
Black Sheep,
T. Rex,
Ituana,
Kaleidoscope,
Harry Pussy,
Pole,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deadbeat,
the Slits,
Symarip,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nik Kershaw,
Ohio Players,
The Motions,
Sex Pistols,
Lightning Bolt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.