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 Sierra Leone and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Nas,
Wings,
Roger Hodgson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Quando Quango,
Joe Smooth,
Pole,
Nico,
Dead Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Subhumans,
Laurel Aitken,
Ituana,
Q and Not U,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare,
Quantec,
The Durutti Column,
FM Einheit,
Cluster,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fela Kuti,
The Monochrome Set,
The Black Dice,
Pantytec,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minor Threat,
Gichy Dan,
Flash Fearless,
The Doors,
Big Daddy Kane,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ralphi Rosario,
Graham Central Station,
Electric Prunes,
Sister Nancy,
Kas Product,
Mad Mike,
The Martian,
Cybotron,
Outsiders,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soulsonic Force,
X-101,
Terry Callier,
The Human League,
Easy Going,
Intrusion,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fugs,
Rhythm & Sound,
The New Christs,
Con Funk Shun,
The Skatalites,
KRS-One,
8 Eyed Spy,
Echospace,
Jawbox,
The Moody Blues,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.