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 Palau and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
X-102,
Black Flag,
The Velvet Underground,
PIL,
Jawbox,
U.S. Maple,
Camouflage,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dave Gahan,
Outsiders,
The Dirtbombs,
New Age Steppers,
Isaac Hayes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Average White Band,
The Zeros,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Oneida,
KRS-One,
Shoche,
Suburban Knight,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cluster,
The Standells,
Minny Pops,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ralphi Rosario,
Blancmange,
The Moody Blues,
Joyce Sims,
Warsaw,
Black Pus,
Royal Trux,
One Last Wish,
the Soft Cell,
JFA,
Marmalade,
Unrelated Segments,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Talk Talk,
Grauzone,
Japan,
Spandau Ballet,
Funky Four + One,
Stiv Bators,
Reuben Wilson,
Cameo,
Sugar Minott,
Bluetip,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Popol Vuh,
The Remains,
Crispy Ambulance,
Don Cherry,
Sound Behaviour,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Goldenarms,
Pierre Henry,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.