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 Marshall Islands 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Slits to the techno 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance 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 rock 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grauzone,
Bill Wells,
Chris & Cosey,
Fad Gadget,
Mr. Review,
David Bowie,
Parry Music,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
Nirvana,
The Residents,
Public Enemy,
Jacob Miller,
the Soft Cell,
Whodini,
The Slits,
The Standells,
Mars,
the Bar-Kays,
Babytalk,
The Saints,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gichy Dan,
Bronski Beat,
Fugazi,
Audionom,
Mad Mike,
the Sonics,
Wings,
CMW,
OOIOO,
Kas Product,
Depeche Mode,
Goldenarms,
Archie Shepp,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Flag,
Faust,
Ken Boothe,
Blancmange,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lyres,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sun City Girls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Quantec,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Laurel Aitken,
Erasure,
Interpol,
Erykah Badu,
Niagra,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric Dolphy,
Tim Buckley,
Sex Pistols,
E-Dancer,
Carl Craig,
The Victims,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.