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 Russia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Monks,
Isaac Hayes,
Quadrant,
The Five Americans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics,
cv313,
Gang Starr,
The Music Machine,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fire Engines,
Faust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ten City,
Japan,
the Swans,
The Martian,
T. Rex,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jacob Miller,
Matthew Halsall,
Nick Fraelich,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Warren Ellis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Associates,
Nik Kershaw,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Marmalade,
Colin Newman,
Tommy Roe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dual Sessions,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Black Dice,
Eve St. Jones,
Icehouse,
The Fugs,
Flash Fearless,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lungfish,
Ice-T,
Schoolly D,
The Names,
Intrusion,
Matthew Bourne,
Lakeside,
Davy DMX,
Andrew Hill,
Public Enemy,
Joey Negro,
Kayak,
The Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
The Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.