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 Bhutan and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fuzztones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
The Angels of Light,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang Green,
Livin' Joy,
Cymande,
The Fugs,
Boz Scaggs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Moebius,
The Black Dice,
Brand Nubian,
Average White Band,
Camouflage,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Magma,
The Leaves,
Susan Cadogan,
Monks,
Mars,
Inner City,
China Crisis,
Bootsy Collins,
The Barracudas,
Avey Tare,
Be Bop Deluxe,
F. McDonald,
DJ Style,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sound,
Soulsonic Force,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Agent Orange,
The United States of America,
Laurel Aitken,
The Saints,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cure,
Skarface,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cowsills,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scratch Acid,
Rhythm & Sound,
Slick Rick,
Black Bananas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barrington Levy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Maleditus Sound,
Minutemen,
Severed Heads,
Fad Gadget,
Glambeats Corp.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Simply Red,
Duran Duran,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pole,
Sight & Sound,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.