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 Jamaica and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Magazine to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Visage,
Wings,
Tubeway Army,
Cheater Slicks,
The New Christs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Heaven 17,
Maleditus Sound,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed,
The Velvet Underground,
Stiv Bators,
Suicide,
The Slits,
Motorama,
The Pretty Things,
The Victims,
Tom Boy,
Roxette,
The Fugs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Metal Thangz,
Fatback Band,
The Searchers,
Susan Cadogan,
Ludus,
John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Simply Red,
Y Pants,
Eurythmics,
Main Source,
Spandau Ballet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Patti Smith,
John Lydon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lyres,
The Doors,
Amazonics,
Soft Machine,
Flash Fearless,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tres Demented,
Khruangbin,
Sun Ra,
Vladislav Delay,
Camouflage,
Mandrill,
Grandmaster Flash,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bauhaus,
Ronan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DJ Sneak,
Desert Stars,
Eric Copeland,
X-Ray Spex,
Flipper,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.