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 Canada and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Young Marble Giants to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Almond,
Brick,
John Foxx,
The Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aural Exciters,
Minny Pops,
Scan 7,
Scott Walker,
Brass Construction,
Organ,
Idris Muhammad,
Hot Snakes,
Banda Bassotti,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joy Division,
New York Dolls,
Can,
Gabor Szabo,
Cybotron,
Monolake,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mummies,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nation of Ulysses,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fad Gadget,
Surgeon,
Sandy B,
Pierre Henry,
Siglo XX,
The Durutti Column,
The Residents,
Minutemen,
Nick Fraelich,
The J.B.'s,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cramps,
Panda Bear,
Hoover,
Metal Thangz,
Joey Negro,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
Nils Olav,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Angry Samoans,
Drexciya,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Moon,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fall,
Iggy Pop,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Loose Ends,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mr. Review,
Schoolly D,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hardrive,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.