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 Bangladesh and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the jazz 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Intrusion,
Tommy Roe,
Byron Stingily,
Boredoms,
Jeff Mills,
Sight & Sound,
Toni Rubio,
Brick,
World's Most,
Robert Hood,
UT,
Wolf Eyes,
The Beau Brummels,
The Searchers,
Scan 7,
Tim Buckley,
Terrestrial Tones,
48th St. Collective,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
Clear Light,
Slave,
Camouflage,
The Modern Lovers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Funkadelic,
The Barracudas,
Agitation Free,
John Lydon,
Groovy Waters,
Hardrive,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Move,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Con Funk Shun,
Radio Birdman,
Cheater Slicks,
Theoretical Girls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Cale,
Dawn Penn,
Susan Cadogan,
Can,
Eli Mardock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gories,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Halsall,
Brass Construction,
T. Rex,
The Saints,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Visage,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mars,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Golliwogs,
Graham Central Station,
Adolescents,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.