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 Nicaragua and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Joe Finger to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Bob Dylan,
Darondo,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Cell,
The Human League,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Subhumans,
Moebius,
Con Funk Shun,
Shuggie Otis,
Monks,
Max Romeo,
New York Dolls,
UT,
World's Most,
Todd Terry,
The Cowsills,
Fatback Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pierre Henry,
The Black Dice,
Newcleus,
Sandy B,
Donny Hathaway,
Hoover,
Q65,
B.T. Express,
Rufus Thomas,
Fat Boys,
Janne Schatter,
Little Man,
Angry Samoans,
Sugar Minott,
Barry Ungar,
Joy Division,
June of 44,
Marvin Gaye,
The Move,
John Lydon,
Dark Day,
Unrelated Segments,
DNA,
Minutemen,
Motorama,
The Fortunes,
The Motions,
Brand Nubian,
Harmonia,
Young Marble Giants,
Qualms,
Nirvana,
10cc,
Desert Stars,
Visage,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Groovy Waters,
Barrington Levy,
Jeru the Damaja,
JFA,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.