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 Dominican Republic and from London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Schoolly D to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Roxy Music,
Neil Young,
T.S.O.L.,
Banda Bassotti,
The Slits,
The Five Americans,
Shoche,
Theoretical Girls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Nils Olav,
Ituana,
Bobby Byrd,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Angels of Light,
Harmonia,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Sheep,
Rufus Thomas,
Blossom Toes,
The Toasters,
Camberwell Now,
Erykah Badu,
China Crisis,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aaron Thompson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Germs,
The Fall,
The Shadows of Knight,
Youth Brigade,
Kerrie Biddell,
Oneida,
Organ,
Bush Tetras,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yazoo,
Motorama,
Pierre Henry,
Sight & Sound,
The Names,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Moleskins,
Ponytail,
Brick,
Amon Düül II,
Marvin Gaye,
Leonard Cohen,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Camouflage,
Sugar Minott,
The Victims,
Agitation Free,
Swell Maps,
Michelle Simonal,
Wally Richardson,
Mo-Dettes,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.