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 Guinea-Bissau and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Hashim to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Moody Blues,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joey Negro,
Black Moon,
Inner City,
the Swans,
Ice-T,
The Fugs,
The Motions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Hasil Adkins,
Byron Stingily,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Bananas,
Yellowson,
Thompson Twins,
The Cramps,
Shuggie Otis,
Boz Scaggs,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chris & Cosey,
The Angels of Light,
Aural Exciters,
Ornette Coleman,
Connie Case,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sound Behaviour,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amazonics,
The Divine Comedy,
The Seeds,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
Main Source,
Sugar Minott,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Dawn Penn,
David McCallum,
Angry Samoans,
Kayak,
Swell Maps,
Barry Ungar,
Saccharine Trust,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sound,
The Smiths,
Metal Thangz,
Wings,
The Offenders,
DJ Style,
Deepchord,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rhythm & Sound,
Country Teasers,
Lou Christie,
Brick,
The Blackbyrds,
Sonic Youth,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.