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 Angola and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Negative Approach to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
The Wake,
The Selecter,
Porter Ricks,
Monolake,
Todd Rundgren,
Deadbeat,
Wally Richardson,
The Invisible,
Japan,
Stiv Bators,
Qualms,
Glambeats Corp.,
Popol Vuh,
Oneida,
Bang On A Can,
Icehouse,
Guru Guru,
Clear Light,
Cameo,
Schoolly D,
Gang of Four,
Kenny Larkin,
Rites of Spring,
These Immortal Souls,
Maleditus Sound,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pierre Henry,
Amon Düül II,
Blossom Toes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ultravox,
Ornette Coleman,
Warren Ellis,
Bauhaus,
Fatback Band,
Althea and Donna,
Chris & Cosey,
Mr. Review,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Count Five,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Subhumans,
Newcleus,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cure,
Cybotron,
Suburban Knight,
Byron Stingily,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
KRS-One,
Yusef Lateef,
World's Most,
The Monochrome Set,
Gong,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gichy Dan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Saccharine Trust,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.