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 Portland.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Outsiders to the electroclash 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
the Sonics,
The Evens,
Carl Craig,
Shuggie Otis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ronan,
Fad Gadget,
Technova,
H. Thieme,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
Gong,
The Fall,
B.T. Express,
Joe Finger,
The Kinks,
Barrington Levy,
David McCallum,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Vogues,
The Stooges,
The Saints,
Scrapy,
Intrusion,
The Martian,
Mandrill,
John Cale,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Parry Music,
Mission of Burma,
Crash Course in Science,
Yazoo,
Bill Wells,
Robert Wyatt,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Blackbyrds,
Max Romeo,
MDC,
Alice Coltrane,
Can,
Nils Olav,
Television Personalities,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kas Product,
The Fugs,
Fat Boys,
Chris & Cosey,
Eden Ahbez,
Saccharine Trust,
The Monks,
Shoche,
JFA,
The Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
Mary Jane Girls,
LL Cool J,
Al Stewart,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Walker Brothers,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.