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 Solomon Islands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magazine,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Boredoms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Sonics,
X-102,
The Mojo Men,
Max Romeo,
Soft Machine,
Country Teasers,
Lungfish,
The Moody Blues,
Dual Sessions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Barry Ungar,
Hashim,
New Age Steppers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Severed Heads,
The Modern Lovers,
Cybotron,
The Invisible,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
E-Dancer,
Fear,
Gregory Isaacs,
A Certain Ratio,
Anthony Braxton,
Hot Snakes,
The Angels of Light,
Model 500,
Whodini,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The United States of America,
Liliput,
Royal Trux,
Nick Fraelich,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Johnny Clarke,
UT,
Ponytail,
Nils Olav,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Don Cherry,
The Seeds,
Rakim,
The J.B.'s,
The Gladiators,
Howard Jones,
The Monochrome Set,
Dave Gahan,
The Searchers,
David McCallum,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ten City,
Depeche Mode,
Sällskapet,
Heaven 17,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.