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 Malawi and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Red Krayola to the disco 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Chris Corsano,
Clear Light,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deadbeat,
Quando Quango,
Pole,
Joey Negro,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dual Sessions,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Velvet Underground,
The Cure,
Oneida,
Ultra Naté,
Pantytec,
Marc Almond,
Khruangbin,
T. Rex,
Colin Newman,
Tres Demented,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Last Poets,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rapeman,
Sarah Menescal,
Connie Case,
Monks,
Peter & Gordon,
Sixth Finger,
Lalann,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pantaleimon,
Funkadelic,
The Angels of Light,
Basic Channel,
Echospace,
Arab on Radar,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rakim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Curtis Mayfield,
Outsiders,
Eddi Front,
H. Thieme,
Boogie Down Productions,
Spoonie Gee,
Qualms,
Swans,
Ludus,
The Birthday Party,
Can,
Nik Kershaw,
Letta Mbulu,
Young Marble Giants,
Althea and Donna,
Pere Ubu,
Alphaville,
John Cale,
Mo-Dettes,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.