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 Guinea 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 linndrum 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 Nils Olav to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
DJ Style,
New Age Steppers,
Hardrive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Searchers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Franke,
Subhumans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Section 25,
Pantytec,
Carl Craig,
Thompson Twins,
Rufus Thomas,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Darondo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ponytail,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Blossom Toes,
The Mojo Men,
Camouflage,
Talk Talk,
Roy Ayers,
Junior Murvin,
The Human League,
James White and The Blacks,
Kaleidoscope,
Pagans,
Bronski Beat,
Japan,
The Stooges,
Henry Cow,
The Offenders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kenny Larkin,
Soft Cell,
Black Sheep,
Symarip,
Skriet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Goldenarms,
The Buckinghams,
B.T. Express,
Lower 48,
Altered Images,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hot Snakes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
DJ Sneak,
The Flesh Eaters,
Inner City,
Lyres,
Grey Daturas,
Rapeman,
Nirvana,
The Gories,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.