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 Philippines and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Public Image Ltd. to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
James White and The Blacks,
Morten Harket,
Toni Rubio,
Minnie Riperton,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kerri Chandler,
The Invisible,
Minor Threat,
Japan,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Icehouse,
Erasure,
Porter Ricks,
Electric Prunes,
Qualms,
Lindisfarne,
The Red Krayola,
The Trojans,
Metal Thangz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sex Pistols,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Public Enemy,
Swans,
R.M.O.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Simply Red,
the Slits,
Blossom Toes,
Con Funk Shun,
Pylon,
Television Personalities,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Womack,
Pole,
Nas,
Sun Ra,
La Düsseldorf,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Normal,
Angry Samoans,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cramps,
Pussy Galore,
Silicon Teens,
Vainqueur,
Bang On A Can,
New Age Steppers,
Ice-T,
The Music Machine,
Minny Pops,
Scrapy,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.