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 Ecuador and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Absolute Body Control to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
T. Rex,
Mars,
Radiohead,
Public Enemy,
B.T. Express,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hoover,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moleskins,
The Tremeloes,
Davy DMX,
The Techniques,
Black Moon,
ABBA,
48th St. Collective,
Aswad,
Moby Grape,
The Fugs,
Terry Callier,
Babytalk,
Mo-Dettes,
Stetsasonic,
Whodini,
The Grass Roots,
Byron Stingily,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Banda Bassotti,
The Raincoats,
Intrusion,
MC5,
Lou Christie,
Peter & Gordon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Television Personalities,
Model 500,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chrome,
Depeche Mode,
The Gladiators,
Patti Smith,
Kerrie Biddell,
Make Up,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Judy Mowatt,
Excepter,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fall,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The J.B.'s,
Nation of Ulysses,
AZ,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Groovy Waters,
Anakelly,
The Fuzztones,
Derrick May,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.