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 Haiti and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alison Limerick to the dance 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Subhumans,
The Seeds,
Sandy B,
Ralphi Rosario,
Graham Central Station,
Rekid,
The Blues Magoos,
Can,
the Slits,
Althea and Donna,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Misunderstood,
Kas Product,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Standells,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James White and The Blacks,
Pussy Galore,
Slave,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Babytalk,
Pylon,
Index,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Fire Engines,
David McCallum,
Rod Modell,
The Moody Blues,
The Music Machine,
Y Pants,
Fugazi,
Surgeon,
Eddi Front,
Gang Green,
The Searchers,
Ice-T,
The Tremeloes,
Icehouse,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Angry Samoans,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Hood,
Severed Heads,
Roxy Music,
Circle Jerks,
Erykah Badu,
The Associates,
Anakelly,
Donny Hathaway,
The Barracudas,
Glenn Branca,
Zero Boys,
Television,
Negative Approach,
Brass Construction,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.