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 Indonesia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 H. Thieme to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Cal Tjader,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Red Krayola,
Mo-Dettes,
The Offenders,
Scion,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yazoo,
David McCallum,
Symarip,
New Order,
the Normal,
Minnie Riperton,
The Angels of Light,
Scratch Acid,
Sex Pistols,
June of 44,
Warsaw,
Sun City Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arcadia,
Kaleidoscope,
The Evens,
PIL,
The Gap Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yaz,
The Leaves,
Oneida,
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
The Invisible,
The Music Machine,
KRS-One,
Traffic Nightmare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cluster,
Von Mondo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Donald Byrd,
Ralphi Rosario,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Faraquet,
Idris Muhammad,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Absolute Body Control,
Subhumans,
Derrick May,
Negative Approach,
Slick Rick,
Marvin Gaye,
Nik Kershaw,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bang On A Can,
Y Pants,
Ultravox,
Jacob Miller,
UT,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.