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 Lesotho and from London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 the Fania All-Stars to the crunk 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agitation Free record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Johnny Clarke,
Shoche,
Bobby Womack,
Babytalk,
Judy Mowatt,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bronski Beat,
Fugazi,
The J.B.'s,
Erasure,
David McCallum,
The Cramps,
The Modern Lovers,
Joey Negro,
Morten Harket,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Halsall,
Camouflage,
Loose Ends,
Godley & Creme,
Malaria!,
Idris Muhammad,
The Red Krayola,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sexual Harrassment,
One Last Wish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Dirtbombs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hardrive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Moebius,
Pantaleimon,
Surgeon,
Roger Hodgson,
Magazine,
Clear Light,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultimate Spinach,
Banda Bassotti,
The Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stetsasonic,
Pylon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
These Immortal Souls,
Letta Mbulu,
Neu!,
PIL,
Ronan,
Bill Near,
Amon Düül II,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Blackbyrds,
The Leaves,
Saccharine Trust,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.