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 Botswana and from New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Laurel Aitken to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Oblivians,
Minutemen,
Inner City,
Talk Talk,
Hardrive,
Johnny Clarke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bootsy Collins,
Gichy Dan,
X-101,
Visage,
Fugazi,
Monks,
Monolake,
Pagans,
Skriet,
Blake Baxter,
Zero Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Neil Young,
Barbara Tucker,
Matthew Halsall,
Skarface,
The Five Americans,
X-Ray Spex,
Joy Division,
Barrington Levy,
Lalann,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gladiators,
Pole,
Ituana,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fear,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeff Mills,
Tears for Fears,
Juan Atkins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Offenders,
Funky Four + One,
The Golliwogs,
Bob Dylan,
Scrapy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Faust,
Eddi Front,
Yaz,
John Holt,
Ultra Naté,
Wally Richardson,
Avey Tare,
The Kinks,
Joey Negro,
Malaria!,
The Vogues,
The Slits,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.