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 Russia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Wake to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grey Daturas,
Make Up,
the Normal,
Circle Jerks,
Pylon,
Groovy Waters,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Knickerbockers,
The Stooges,
La Düsseldorf,
Lalann,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Maurizio,
Sex Pistols,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy Collins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Beau Brummels,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sandy B,
Tom Boy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Royal Trux,
Liliput,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Unwound,
The Cramps,
Suicide,
Marc Almond,
the Soft Cell,
Pole,
New York Dolls,
Gang Green,
Easy Going,
OOIOO,
Ken Boothe,
AZ,
Johnny Clarke,
Minutemen,
DJ Style,
Moss Icon,
Tommy Roe,
Khruangbin,
Bill Near,
Jacob Miller,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blancmange,
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
Barbara Tucker,
Tubeway Army,
Nas,
Kas Product,
ABC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Barracudas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.