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 Angola and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Peter and Kerry to the grunge 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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Mars,
The Smiths,
the Soft Cell,
Black Bananas,
Robert Hood,
The Misunderstood,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
New York Dolls,
Boredoms,
Yazoo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Quantec,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Theoretical Girls,
UT,
Porter Ricks,
Black Pus,
Minny Pops,
June of 44,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cowsills,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
DJ Style,
Arcadia,
Wally Richardson,
The Buckinghams,
Circle Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slackers,
Iggy Pop,
The Standells,
Alison Limerick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Sherman,
Henry Cow,
Warren Ellis,
KRS-One,
Brick,
Pussy Galore,
Dual Sessions,
Lightning Bolt,
Slick Rick,
PIL,
Essential Logic,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Swans,
Camberwell Now,
The Red Krayola,
Rapeman,
Funkadelic,
Tubeway Army,
Television Personalities,
Babytalk,
Roy Ayers,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Bar-Kays,
Sugar Minott,
Desert Stars,
John Lydon,
the Association,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.