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 Albania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Maurizio to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band 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 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Enemy,
Das Ding,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Derrick May,
Faust,
The Offenders,
Scrapy,
The Zeros,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Buckinghams,
the Normal,
DJ Sneak,
Grandmaster Flash,
Duran Duran,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Mills,
Susan Cadogan,
cv313,
Mantronix,
Jacob Miller,
Al Stewart,
Gang Green,
Icehouse,
Sex Pistols,
Steve Hackett,
Mandrill,
The Five Americans,
Lalann,
Charles Mingus,
Organ,
The Blues Magoos,
Moby Grape,
Danielle Patucci,
Aaron Thompson,
The Monochrome Set,
Gil Scott Heron,
Excepter,
Alton Ellis,
Boz Scaggs,
Mars,
Robert Hood,
Peter & Gordon,
Shuggie Otis,
Isaac Hayes,
Wasted Youth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxette,
Agitation Free,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roy Ayers,
Qualms,
Scott Walker,
David McCallum,
The Evens,
The Wake,
Au Pairs,
Suburban Knight,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.