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 Cameroon and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fugazi to the crunk 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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Graham Central Station,
Au Pairs,
MDC,
Erykah Badu,
The Selecter,
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
Yusef Lateef,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Skaos,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Quando Quango,
Gong,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kayak,
Animal Collective,
the Swans,
Smog,
Pole,
Faust,
Jandek,
Pantytec,
A Certain Ratio,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Remains,
Youth Brigade,
David Bowie,
Bush Tetras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang of Four,
Aswad,
Henry Cow,
Gang Starr,
Camberwell Now,
The Young Rascals,
The Smiths,
Excepter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
La Düsseldorf,
Piero Umiliani,
Maleditus Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Bananas,
New York Dolls,
Panda Bear,
Harry Pussy,
E-Dancer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Junior Murvin,
Amon Düül,
In Retrospect,
The Last Poets,
The Buckinghams,
8 Eyed Spy,
Josef K,
Spoonie Gee,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eric B and Rakim,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.