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 Brazil and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 808 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 Don Cherry to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Interpol,
Clear Light,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Basic Channel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
R.M.O.,
John Cale,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pierre Henry,
The Golliwogs,
The Cowsills,
Arthur Verocai,
The Remains,
Eurythmics,
Excepter,
Rekid,
Parry Music,
The Human League,
the Germs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
T. Rex,
Yaz,
DNA,
Scan 7,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Saints,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joyce Sims,
The Cure,
Bronski Beat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nik Kershaw,
Ken Boothe,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gerry Rafferty,
Can,
Warren Ellis,
The Move,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Womack,
Magma,
Yellowson,
EPMD,
The Misunderstood,
Bizarre Inc.,
Stiv Bators,
Nirvana,
Sandy B,
Todd Terry,
Lou Christie,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Malaria!,
X-Ray Spex,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fall,
Archie Shepp,
Gichy Dan,
Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hashim,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.