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 Kuwait and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scratch Acid to the punk 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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Glenn Branca,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Slits,
The Saints,
Goldenarms,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gories,
The Index,
Aaron Thompson,
Thompson Twins,
Ultra Naté,
Anthony Braxton,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
B.T. Express,
Ken Boothe,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Christie,
The Litter,
The Searchers,
Rosa Yemen,
Lindisfarne,
Erykah Badu,
Sugar Minott,
Dawn Penn,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radio Birdman,
Harmonia,
Guru Guru,
The Slackers,
AZ,
Stereo Dub,
The Electric Prunes,
D'Angelo,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun City Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Byron Stingily,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chris & Cosey,
The Dirtbombs,
Grauzone,
the Association,
Sister Nancy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wally Richardson,
Tres Demented,
Andrew Hill,
Organ,
Fat Boys,
Lakeside,
Anakelly,
Newcleus,
The Moleskins,
Judy Mowatt,
Intrusion,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.