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 Cambodia and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the crunk 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
The Smiths,
Sandy B,
Fugazi,
The Shadows of Knight,
Average White Band,
Wasted Youth,
KRS-One,
D'Angelo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New York Dolls,
the Sonics,
The Gories,
Subhumans,
X-Ray Spex,
the Slits,
Neu!,
Supertramp,
Essential Logic,
Lakeside,
The Trojans,
Oneida,
Agitation Free,
Babytalk,
Dual Sessions,
Rufus Thomas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arcadia,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Blake Baxter,
Scrapy,
Cluster,
The Stooges,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rites of Spring,
Laurel Aitken,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crash Course in Science,
John Foxx,
Anthony Braxton,
The Monks,
Clear Light,
Jacques Brel,
Rekid,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Angry Samoans,
Ossler,
The American Breed,
Amon Düül II,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hashim,
Donald Byrd,
The Gun Club,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jandek,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dawn Penn,
Index,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.