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 Costa Rica and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe 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 Fatback Band to the crunk 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Donny Hathaway,
Charles Mingus,
Kayak,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Pus,
Porter Ricks,
Blancmange,
the Association,
Harry Pussy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brick,
Echospace,
The Remains,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun City Girls,
Clear Light,
Joy Division,
Sandy B,
Glenn Branca,
Barbara Tucker,
Dual Sessions,
PIL,
Chrome,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
World's Most,
Susan Cadogan,
Sex Pistols,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eden Ahbez,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Standells,
Oblivians,
Carl Craig,
Excepter,
Tommy Roe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Country Teasers,
Tears for Fears,
Terry Callier,
Easy Going,
Bush Tetras,
June Days,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Monks,
New Order,
Lower 48,
Henry Cow,
The Mojo Men,
Ronan,
Warsaw,
Rufus Thomas,
H. Thieme,
Urselle,
Angry Samoans,
B.T. Express,
the Human League,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.