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 Slovakia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roxy Music to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
The Slackers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joe Smooth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Davy DMX,
Bronski Beat,
Flash Fearless,
Clear Light,
The Associates,
Fat Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang of Four,
Terry Callier,
Con Funk Shun,
Arcadia,
the Germs,
Black Pus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Guru Guru,
World's Most,
Archie Shepp,
Neu!,
Funky Four + One,
Vladislav Delay,
Motorama,
Massinfluence,
Michelle Simonal,
Marc Almond,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Trojans,
Sex Pistols,
Warsaw,
Iggy Pop,
Scion,
Fear,
Aloha Tigers,
June Days,
Suburban Knight,
H. Thieme,
Tom Boy,
Nirvana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jeff Mills,
The American Breed,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soft Cell,
Lakeside,
The Slits,
The Star Department,
Underground Resistance,
Hot Snakes,
Pole,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tommy Roe,
Infiniti,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.