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 Solomon Islands and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Babytalk,
The Last Poets,
June Days,
Minnie Riperton,
X-101,
Erasure,
Banda Bassotti,
JFA,
Radiopuhelimet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang of Four,
The Tremeloes,
Rapeman,
Oneida,
Zapp,
Pantaleimon,
Brass Construction,
Blancmange,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sixth Finger,
Suburban Knight,
the Normal,
Dennis Brown,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric Copeland,
Pagans,
Los Fastidios,
Yaz,
Leonard Cohen,
Darondo,
Pierre Henry,
Stiv Bators,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ralphi Rosario,
Delta 5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The New Christs,
DJ Style,
The Moleskins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sandy B,
Parry Music,
Wally Richardson,
New Order,
Rites of Spring,
Grauzone,
Interpol,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Chris Corsano,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Susan Cadogan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Lydon,
Gang Green,
Bronski Beat,
Lungfish,
Tom Boy,
Shuggie Otis,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.