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 Guyana and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Harry Pussy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Bronski Beat,
Gichy Dan,
Rites of Spring,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donald Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joyce Sims,
New Order,
Fatback Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gap Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lower 48,
X-102,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Clarke,
Eden Ahbez,
The Black Dice,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Offenders,
Nico,
Robert Wyatt,
John Holt,
Jesper Dahlback,
Television,
Guru Guru,
Q and Not U,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Sam Rivers,
Agitation Free,
Zapp,
The Doobie Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Lou Christie,
Nirvana,
Sixth Finger,
The Neon Judgement,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Divine Comedy,
Sonic Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Byrd,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Clear Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scratch Acid,
Charles Mingus,
The Smiths,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mojo Men,
Inner City,
Byron Stingily,
The American Breed,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.