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 Liberia and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Theoretical Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Sun Ra,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tomorrow,
Darondo,
The Index,
Outsiders,
The Vogues,
Ronnie Foster,
Japan,
Yellowson,
The Dirtbombs,
Agent Orange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Idris Muhammad,
Negative Approach,
Wings,
Scan 7,
Jandek,
K-Klass,
Rites of Spring,
Television Personalities,
Boz Scaggs,
X-102,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cecil Taylor,
Circle Jerks,
David McCallum,
the Swans,
Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brand Nubian,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marmalade,
The J.B.'s,
Marc Almond,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
A Certain Ratio,
Sister Nancy,
New York Dolls,
Monolake,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sällskapet,
Pylon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Spandau Ballet,
Nils Olav,
Erykah Badu,
These Immortal Souls,
Schoolly D,
The Dead C,
Robert Hood,
Gregory Isaacs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crime,
Swell Maps,
Technova,
The Sonics,
Matthew Bourne,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.