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 Honduras and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Visage,
Charles Mingus,
LL Cool J,
Roy Ayers,
Oneida,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minnie Riperton,
John Foxx,
Chris Corsano,
Rekid,
Howard Jones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Urselle,
Rakim,
John Lydon,
The Blues Magoos,
The Martian,
DNA,
Flipper,
Hasil Adkins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Average White Band,
Yaz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bill Near,
Fad Gadget,
Fugazi,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Residents,
The Durutti Column,
Dead Boys,
Josef K,
The Gories,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Buckinghams,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aaron Thompson,
Groovy Waters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Wyatt,
Shuggie Otis,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Moon,
Drexciya,
Thompson Twins,
The Five Americans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Funky Four + One,
Skriet,
Malaria!,
Television,
Bobby Byrd,
Crash Course in Science,
Section 25,
Buzzcocks,
The Moleskins,
Rotary Connection,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.