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 Maldives and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the 808 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 Marcia Griffiths to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Ten City,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marmalade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nik Kershaw,
Godley & Creme,
Sugar Minott,
Brothers Johnson,
Susan Cadogan,
Dawn Penn,
Interpol,
the Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers,
The Mojo Men,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Erasure,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cure,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Steve Hackett,
Trumans Water,
Hoover,
Iggy Pop,
The Happenings,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joe Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Excepter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Motorama,
MDC,
Pulsallama,
Ohio Players,
Lucky Dragons,
The Alarm Clocks,
Silicon Teens,
The Dave Clark Five,
Carl Craig,
The Detroit Cobras,
Duran Duran,
The Flesh Eaters,
H. Thieme,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monks,
Sonic Youth,
The Sonics,
The Toasters,
Deakin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
June Days,
Kaleidoscope,
Soulsonic Force,
Delta 5,
Pussy Galore,
Lyres,
The Pretty Things,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.