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 Australia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Glenn Branca to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dead C,
Dawn Penn,
Quantec,
Skarface,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Five Americans,
Talk Talk,
Babytalk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Blake Baxter,
Lungfish,
Banda Bassotti,
Isaac Hayes,
Cheater Slicks,
The Angels of Light,
Rapeman,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pulsallama,
June of 44,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bronski Beat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zero Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Magma,
The Modern Lovers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Radio Birdman,
Ten City,
Deepchord,
Cymande,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suicide,
Smog,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joey Negro,
Tres Demented,
Sex Pistols,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Khruangbin,
Dual Sessions,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Human League,
Frankie Knuckles,
Arcadia,
Ludus,
The Trojans,
Livin' Joy,
Laurel Aitken,
Max Romeo,
Pylon,
The Motions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Starr,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.