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 Israel and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Michael McDonald 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 Angry Samoans to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
U.S. Maple,
Smog,
Mary Jane Girls,
Patti Smith,
Faraquet,
Tim Buckley,
Joensuu 1685,
Scratch Acid,
Howard Jones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bootsy Collins,
Cybotron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bill Near,
the Soft Cell,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Todd Terry,
Deakin,
Babytalk,
the Fania All-Stars,
Index,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Angry Samoans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
MC5,
Slave,
Theoretical Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Judy Mowatt,
World's Most,
Jandek,
Severed Heads,
Magma,
the Germs,
A Certain Ratio,
Television Personalities,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Anakelly,
Wasted Youth,
Mantronix,
Camouflage,
The Selecter,
Cymande,
Idris Muhammad,
Joe Finger,
The Cramps,
The Gun Club,
The Red Krayola,
EPMD,
Electric Prunes,
Surgeon,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cure,
Traffic Nightmare,
Malaria!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Flipper,
The Trojans,
Vainqueur,
Peter & Gordon,
Dead Boys,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.