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 Marshall Islands and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 American Breed to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Spoonie Gee,
Bush Tetras,
The Doobie Brothers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rod Modell,
Thompson Twins,
The Five Americans,
Sun City Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Funkadelic,
Donald Byrd,
Soft Cell,
The Red Krayola,
Buzzcocks,
Slave,
The Misunderstood,
Wire,
cv313,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Henry Cow,
Donny Hathaway,
Blake Baxter,
The Cure,
The Trojans,
New York Dolls,
Sonic Youth,
F. McDonald,
Easy Going,
Pantytec,
Mantronix,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wally Richardson,
Das Ding,
The Dirtbombs,
Patti Smith,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang Starr,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
These Immortal Souls,
The Buckinghams,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cameo,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fortunes,
Prince Buster,
Young Marble Giants,
Negative Approach,
Nik Kershaw,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Smoke,
Al Stewart,
Alphaville,
Kas Product,
the Germs,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.