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 Comoros and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Certain Ratio to the disco 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Warsaw,
The Gories,
X-101,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Toni Rubio,
Gang Green,
Barry Ungar,
Derrick May,
The Trojans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mummies,
Ultravox,
Negative Approach,
Stockholm Monsters,
F. McDonald,
Surgeon,
Bang On A Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eli Mardock,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mantronix,
Tim Buckley,
Todd Terry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Loose Ends,
kango's stein massive,
The Litter,
Black Bananas,
The Leaves,
The Last Poets,
Sugar Minott,
Lightning Bolt,
Massinfluence,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Duran Duran,
Subhumans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Albert Ayler,
Skarface,
The Techniques,
Carl Craig,
The Star Department,
Tres Demented,
Stetsasonic,
Stereo Dub,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bauhaus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Second Layer,
Sex Pistols,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sarah Menescal,
Scan 7,
New Order,
Visage,
Amazonics,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.