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 China and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Swans to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Black Bananas,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Sheep,
The Golliwogs,
The Names,
Amazonics,
Nils Olav,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Count Five,
ABC,
Rufus Thomas,
R.M.O.,
Hasil Adkins,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Doors,
Country Joe & The Fish,
In Retrospect,
Nas,
The Smoke,
The Grass Roots,
Black Pus,
T.S.O.L.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Johnny Clarke,
ABBA,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy Collins,
Lungfish,
Derrick Morgan,
Index,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Public Image Ltd.,
Charles Mingus,
Fluxion,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tom Boy,
Cheater Slicks,
Faraquet,
the Soft Cell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grauzone,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dead Boys,
Bill Wells,
Deakin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joey Negro,
Television,
Dave Gahan,
Tubeway Army,
Laurel Aitken,
Pere Ubu,
Dual Sessions,
Rotary Connection,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Suburban Knight,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.