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 Jamaica and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 X-Ray Spex to the techno 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 Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mo-Dettes,
The Knickerbockers,
Moby Grape,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swans,
Ultra Naté,
The Saints,
Underground Resistance,
Fugazi,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Livin' Joy,
New York Dolls,
Alison Limerick,
AZ,
Max Romeo,
U.S. Maple,
Tres Demented,
Chrome,
The Modern Lovers,
Television Personalities,
Glenn Branca,
UT,
Laurel Aitken,
Q and Not U,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Matthew Bourne,
Al Stewart,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Christie,
Anakelly,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eurythmics,
Symarip,
Siglo XX,
Essential Logic,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scott Walker,
Icehouse,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joe Finger,
Ituana,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Last Poets,
The Blues Magoos,
the Sonics,
Animal Collective,
The Raincoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Bar-Kays,
The Music Machine,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kaleidoscope,
Easy Going,
Yellowson,
Sound Behaviour,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Starr,
The Smoke,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.