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 Romania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the rock 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Fat Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Q and Not U,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Index,
48th St. Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Move,
Rotary Connection,
Negative Approach,
Magma,
Cymande,
Brick,
The Blackbyrds,
Amon Düül II,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Association,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lebanon Hanover,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June of 44,
Young Marble Giants,
Mandrill,
the Swans,
Animal Collective,
Eurythmics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy Collins,
Make Up,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
Freddie Wadling,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unwound,
Royal Trux,
Pere Ubu,
Black Moon,
Howard Jones,
Minutemen,
Swans,
Faraquet,
Sex Pistols,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Absolute Body Control,
the Normal,
Cluster,
The Gladiators,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Names,
OOIOO,
H. Thieme,
Masters at Work,
Grey Daturas,
Groovy Waters,
Oneida,
Eric Copeland,
The Divine Comedy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.