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 Ivory Coast and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Barracudas to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
48th St. Collective,
Johnny Osbourne,
In Retrospect,
Gerry Rafferty,
Godley & Creme,
Joyce Sims,
Bill Wells,
the Slits,
Dennis Brown,
D'Angelo,
Make Up,
Pierre Henry,
kango's stein massive,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Christie,
Rakim,
Camouflage,
Suicide,
Motorama,
The Red Krayola,
Theoretical Girls,
The Black Dice,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deepchord,
Moby Grape,
Fugazi,
the Swans,
Barry Ungar,
Funky Four + One,
Bootsy Collins,
Clear Light,
Skriet,
Wings,
The Kinks,
Eurythmics,
Bronski Beat,
Country Teasers,
Silicon Teens,
Nik Kershaw,
Bush Tetras,
Isaac Hayes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aaron Thompson,
Johnny Clarke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Smoke,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bang On A Can,
Skaos,
The Gun Club,
Severed Heads,
Rekid,
X-Ray Spex,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kurtis Blow,
Jeff Mills,
Audionom,
Excepter,
Lakeside,
Main Source,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.