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 Singapore and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Golliwogs to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Robert Wyatt,
Blancmange,
Fatback Band,
the Normal,
Bluetip,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
MC5,
The Neon Judgement,
Flipper,
Los Fastidios,
MDC,
Howard Jones,
Interpol,
Avey Tare,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Parrish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Amazonics,
Minor Threat,
ABC,
Index,
The Leaves,
Swell Maps,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Clarke,
The Beau Brummels,
Scion,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Duran Duran,
Althea and Donna,
Public Enemy,
Moby Grape,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Idris Muhammad,
Sister Nancy,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mummies,
Joey Negro,
Wings,
Lakeside,
Maurizio,
Saccharine Trust,
kango's stein massive,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Japan,
Jawbox,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gichy Dan,
Ultravox,
Eurythmics,
Bob Dylan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funkadelic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Wasted Youth,
Max Romeo,
June Days,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.