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 St Lucia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mantronix to the crunk 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smiths,
The Real Kids,
The Alarm Clocks,
Goldenarms,
Panda Bear,
Glenn Branca,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Wyatt,
48th St. Collective,
Gang of Four,
Traffic Nightmare,
Michelle Simonal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Christie,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
UT,
Eric B and Rakim,
MDC,
Ken Boothe,
Underground Resistance,
Pantaleimon,
Connie Case,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mummies,
Junior Murvin,
Archie Shepp,
Tim Buckley,
Maurizio,
Khruangbin,
Jimmy McGriff,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bill Wells,
Loose Ends,
Mantronix,
8 Eyed Spy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Duran Duran,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reagan Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
FM Einheit,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Moon,
The Velvet Underground,
X-Ray Spex,
Moby Grape,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flipper,
Stereo Dub,
The Toasters,
Adolescents,
PIL,
Heaven 17,
Jacob Miller,
Todd Terry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.