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 Armenia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Janne Schatter to the funk 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Fad Gadget,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Womack,
Man Parrish,
Unwound,
MC5,
Das Ding,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
PIL,
Chris & Cosey,
Youth Brigade,
Eve St. Jones,
Soulsonic Force,
John Lydon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Gang Dance,
Thee Headcoats,
The Slackers,
Liliput,
Nick Fraelich,
ABBA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nas,
The Star Department,
Bill Near,
ABC,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Litter,
Al Stewart,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Zeros,
Sparks,
Flash Fearless,
Dorothy Ashby,
Charles Mingus,
Los Fastidios,
Henry Cow,
The Velvet Underground,
Judy Mowatt,
Symarip,
Skaos,
Minny Pops,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Urselle,
The Smiths,
Porter Ricks,
Marvin Gaye,
T. Rex,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
LL Cool J,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fear,
Jeff Mills,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.