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 Comoros and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Selecter to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Simply Red,
Archie Shepp,
Stereo Dub,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang Starr,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Max Romeo,
Oblivians,
Eden Ahbez,
The Selecter,
Suicide,
Lightning Bolt,
Bob Dylan,
The Star Department,
Clear Light,
Camouflage,
Lou Christie,
Lyres,
The Blackbyrds,
Quando Quango,
48th St. Collective,
The New Christs,
The Angels of Light,
Agitation Free,
Eli Mardock,
Severed Heads,
L. Decosne,
Minutemen,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slits,
Ten City,
The Modern Lovers,
Bill Wells,
Vainqueur,
Cal Tjader,
Isaac Hayes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gabor Szabo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scrapy,
Dead Boys,
The Fire Engines,
Trumans Water,
UT,
U.S. Maple,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sällskapet,
Gang of Four,
OOIOO,
Pussy Galore,
Arab on Radar,
Accadde A,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultimate Spinach,
In Retrospect,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Martian,
Scan 7,
The Black Dice,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.