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 Mongolia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Joe Smooth to the funk 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Crash Course in Science,
the Swans,
Fatback Band,
Black Bananas,
The Selecter,
Minor Threat,
David Bowie,
Pierre Henry,
Brass Construction,
Chrome,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pylon,
Von Mondo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mr. Review,
Isaac Hayes,
Minnie Riperton,
Tears for Fears,
Spoonie Gee,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
Hasil Adkins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Swell Maps,
Pagans,
Lindisfarne,
Quadrant,
Banda Bassotti,
Delta 5,
MC5,
Silicon Teens,
Patti Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Pop Group,
Y Pants,
The Golliwogs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
AZ,
The Busters,
Lou Reed,
Anakelly,
The Toasters,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Beau Brummels,
Monolake,
LL Cool J,
the Germs,
Stiv Bators,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tomorrow,
a-ha,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.