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 Rwanda and from Accra.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Marc Almond to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
Roger Hodgson,
MDC,
Deadbeat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Althea and Donna,
Aloha Tigers,
Prince Buster,
New Age Steppers,
Mad Mike,
Pylon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camberwell Now,
Tom Boy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gap Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fugs,
Brass Construction,
Toni Rubio,
Todd Rundgren,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sonic Youth,
Jandek,
Crooked Eye,
John Holt,
Bob Dylan,
The Busters,
Alison Limerick,
B.T. Express,
Moby Grape,
John Foxx,
Icehouse,
Visage,
The Star Department,
Chrome,
Gang Starr,
Magazine,
Schoolly D,
The Motions,
Country Teasers,
Marmalade,
The Golliwogs,
The Durutti Column,
Ossler,
Glambeats Corp.,
Max Romeo,
New Order,
Bobby Sherman,
Soul Sonic Force,
JFA,
The Velvet Underground,
The Vogues,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mantronix,
cv313,
Average White Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Popol Vuh,
Tubeway Army,
Chris & Cosey,
Swell Maps,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.