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 Belarus and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the jazz 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Iggy Pop,
Chris & Cosey,
Slave,
Fear,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Shadows of Knight,
Interpol,
the Germs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
Whodini,
Fela Kuti,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Pus,
Bush Tetras,
The Gun Club,
Khruangbin,
Arcadia,
Can,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mark Hollis,
The Neon Judgement,
R.M.O.,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moleskins,
the Bar-Kays,
Ice-T,
Buzzcocks,
Howard Jones,
Peter and Kerry,
Japan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chris Corsano,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mars,
Ituana,
Jacob Miller,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lou Christie,
New Age Steppers,
Hasil Adkins,
Au Pairs,
The Toasters,
Symarip,
Skarface,
The Happenings,
The Stooges,
Yazoo,
The Mummies,
Amon Düül II,
The Leaves,
Sam Rivers,
Alton Ellis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cheater Slicks,
Wire,
Tim Buckley,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.