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 Tonga and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Sister Nancy to the techno 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Accadde A,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grauzone,
the Association,
Suburban Knight,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Motions,
Sam Rivers,
Nas,
Crooked Eye,
Parry Music,
Motorama,
Silicon Teens,
Con Funk Shun,
Freddie Wadling,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Reed,
Model 500,
Underground Resistance,
Ralphi Rosario,
New Order,
Anakelly,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Main Source,
Porter Ricks,
F. McDonald,
Rites of Spring,
Fear,
Make Up,
Max Romeo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tears for Fears,
Index,
David Axelrod,
Jandek,
Pole,
The Golliwogs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grey Daturas,
KRS-One,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Holt,
Brick,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Happenings,
Ultravox,
Rapeman,
Delta 5,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Associates,
Black Sheep,
Pulsallama,
Royal Trux,
Sugar Minott,
Henry Cow,
Scrapy,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Real Kids,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Popol Vuh,
The Toasters,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.