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 Zimbabwe and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 Animal Collective to the electroclash 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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agitation Free record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Vogues,
Kevin Saunderson,
Excepter,
The Selecter,
the Association,
Ohio Players,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
R.M.O.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Surgeon,
Moss Icon,
The J.B.'s,
Kas Product,
Derrick Morgan,
Scan 7,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alphaville,
Quantec,
Whodini,
FM Einheit,
Alton Ellis,
Cameo,
The Skatalites,
Simply Red,
Max Romeo,
X-102,
K-Klass,
Con Funk Shun,
Bronski Beat,
Godley & Creme,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amon Düül II,
Roxy Music,
Cal Tjader,
Johnny Clarke,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
LL Cool J,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Goldenarms,
Wire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unrelated Segments,
New York Dolls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wally Richardson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Real Kids,
Public Enemy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Doobie Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gichy Dan,
Hardrive,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.