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 Korea North and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Magma to the rap 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Grauzone,
Sixth Finger,
Pussy Galore,
Scion,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Royal Trux,
Reagan Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sarah Menescal,
Skaos,
Desert Stars,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
KRS-One,
Stetsasonic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Yellowson,
Camouflage,
Symarip,
Silicon Teens,
Minor Threat,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Warsaw,
Unwound,
The Remains,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Warren Ellis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Depeche Mode,
Hardrive,
Robert Görl,
FM Einheit,
Animal Collective,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Clarke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Banda Bassotti,
Brothers Johnson,
Los Fastidios,
Derrick May,
The Gap Band,
Harry Pussy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Half Japanese,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Von Mondo,
The Mojo Men,
Livin' Joy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Quando Quango,
Bluetip,
Neil Young,
Archie Shepp,
T. Rex,
Brass Construction,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blancmange,
Tears for Fears,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.