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 Taiwan and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Germs to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Cecil Taylor,
Kurtis Blow,
Duran Duran,
Reagan Youth,
Dave Gahan,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Starr,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Chrome,
Minnie Riperton,
June Days,
AZ,
Quando Quango,
Crooked Eye,
Kayak,
Gil Scott Heron,
Symarip,
Trumans Water,
Eurythmics,
Pylon,
The Fugs,
The Pop Group,
Shoche,
Dawn Penn,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roxy Music,
Soft Machine,
Ludus,
Sun City Girls,
Tom Boy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Harry Pussy,
Erykah Badu,
The Fuzztones,
Cameo,
Shuggie Otis,
a-ha,
The New Christs,
Laurel Aitken,
Scott Walker,
Malaria!,
Metal Thangz,
Intrusion,
Pantytec,
the Sonics,
Boz Scaggs,
The Busters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Half Japanese,
Con Funk Shun,
Aural Exciters,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monks,
Gabor Szabo,
X-102,
Essential Logic,
The Techniques,
Negative Approach,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.