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 Andorra and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Agent Orange,
New Age Steppers,
Surgeon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lungfish,
Sugar Minott,
Guru Guru,
L. Decosne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Absolute Body Control,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Reagan Youth,
The Index,
The Durutti Column,
Arcadia,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Spoonie Gee,
The Blues Magoos,
Max Romeo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Arab on Radar,
kango's stein massive,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Animal Collective,
Joe Smooth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Motions,
Nick Fraelich,
Model 500,
Rekid,
CMW,
the Fania All-Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Erykah Badu,
a-ha,
Grandmaster Flash,
Whodini,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Ice-T,
Kas Product,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mr. Review,
the Normal,
Hardrive,
Sexual Harrassment,
Desert Stars,
Loose Ends,
A Certain Ratio,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Derrick Morgan,
Yellowson,
ABBA,
Minnie Riperton,
Sight & Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fire Engines,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.