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 Tuvalu and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Yellowson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Guru Guru,
The Busters,
Animal Collective,
Bad Manners,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Gun Club,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blake Baxter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Y Pants,
Anthony Braxton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Green,
Cybotron,
Ohio Players,
Public Enemy,
Byron Stingily,
The Golliwogs,
Marshall Jefferson,
B.T. Express,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric Dolphy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Kinks,
The Grass Roots,
Procol Harum,
Youth Brigade,
Desert Stars,
Stiv Bators,
Frankie Knuckles,
Juan Atkins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mandrill,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ice-T,
Jawbox,
The Durutti Column,
Radiopuhelimet,
Negative Approach,
The Leaves,
Reagan Youth,
Television Personalities,
Second Layer,
DJ Style,
Reuben Wilson,
Organ,
Rites of Spring,
Franke,
Minor Threat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barry Ungar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David McCallum,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kas Product,
Gong,
Dark Day,
Maurizio,
World's Most,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.