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 Malta and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Nile Rodgers 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 White and The Blacks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Marmalade,
the Slits,
Mary Jane Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eurythmics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
OOIOO,
Barrington Levy,
Fatback Band,
Alison Limerick,
John Foxx,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mr. Review,
The Angels of Light,
Bill Wells,
Bad Manners,
The Fugs,
Eric Dolphy,
Theoretical Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slave,
Cymande,
Alton Ellis,
Terry Callier,
Talk Talk,
the Soft Cell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grauzone,
The Fall,
Jawbox,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Pretty Things,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Smog,
Pylon,
Brothers Johnson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Motorama,
Aaron Thompson,
Ponytail,
MC5,
Bill Near,
The Motions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bronski Beat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Agent Orange,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Agitation Free,
U.S. Maple,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cramps,
Steve Hackett,
Massinfluence,
Franke,
Oneida,
The Searchers,
Joy Division,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.