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 Spain and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar 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 Chris & Cosey 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
The Music Machine,
The Modern Lovers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mars,
Boredoms,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Wells,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Vladislav Delay,
FM Einheit,
Fugazi,
Skarface,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Juan Atkins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
a-ha,
Swans,
Metal Thangz,
Index,
Blossom Toes,
Stiv Bators,
Gichy Dan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Easy Going,
Pylon,
K-Klass,
Con Funk Shun,
The Smoke,
Fear,
Junior Murvin,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Misunderstood,
Ice-T,
X-Ray Spex,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
Spandau Ballet,
Organ,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Negative Approach,
Donald Byrd,
Deepchord,
Monks,
48th St. Collective,
Skaos,
the Normal,
Morten Harket,
Roger Hodgson,
The Standells,
Zapp,
The Electric Prunes,
Dennis Brown,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Zero Boys,
Moby Grape,
Sällskapet,
Peter & Gordon,
Rotary Connection,
Tubeway Army,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.