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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Mars,
The Fire Engines,
Byron Stingily,
Siglo XX,
Gong,
Ten City,
The Slits,
La Düsseldorf,
Rekid,
Jawbox,
David Bowie,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Birthday Party,
Subhumans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Pop Group,
a-ha,
the Human League,
Royal Trux,
Terry Callier,
Neu!,
Desert Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The New Christs,
Television Personalities,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skarface,
Soulsonic Force,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-101,
Howard Jones,
The Moleskins,
Bang On A Can,
New Age Steppers,
Darondo,
Tubeway Army,
Hardrive,
Delta 5,
Roxy Music,
The Doobie Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Ken Boothe,
Technova,
Aswad,
Magazine,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Kinks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Carl Craig,
The Real Kids,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dennis Brown,
Public Enemy,
Second Layer,
New York Dolls,
Robert Wyatt,
Moss Icon,
John Lydon,
Moebius,
Boredoms,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.