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 Seychelles and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 PIL to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nick Fraelich,
The Busters,
The Leaves,
Eli Mardock,
Visage,
Gichy Dan,
Lakeside,
The Five Americans,
Sam Rivers,
Procol Harum,
Pere Ubu,
The Fall,
Fluxion,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Grey Daturas,
Yusef Lateef,
MC5,
Dennis Brown,
Black Moon,
Harry Pussy,
Byron Stingily,
The Seeds,
In Retrospect,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Make Up,
Schoolly D,
Jerry's Kids,
Mark Hollis,
The Offenders,
Fat Boys,
Khruangbin,
Joe Finger,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joey Negro,
Black Bananas,
Clear Light,
Dawn Penn,
Rekid,
AZ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kenny Larkin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fatback Band,
The Standells,
Severed Heads,
Public Enemy,
the Human League,
Terry Callier,
Angry Samoans,
Cal Tjader,
Fad Gadget,
James Chance & The Contortions,
X-101,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boredoms,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.