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 Jordan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Pere Ubu,
Cheater Slicks,
Chris & Cosey,
Desert Stars,
The United States of America,
The Associates,
Nils Olav,
Mary Jane Girls,
Trumans Water,
Con Funk Shun,
Heaven 17,
Ultra Naté,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cal Tjader,
Erykah Badu,
Juan Atkins,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Saints,
The Modern Lovers,
Stockholm Monsters,
R.M.O.,
The Trojans,
Infiniti,
F. McDonald,
Black Moon,
Severed Heads,
Howard Jones,
Nas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tom Boy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Section 25,
The Motions,
Anthony Braxton,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New Order,
Von Mondo,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fuzztones,
Cecil Taylor,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gong,
Faraquet,
The Five Americans,
Animal Collective,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Prince Buster,
Inner City,
the Association,
David Axelrod,
the Germs,
Alton Ellis,
Popol Vuh,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dead Boys,
Rapeman,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.