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 Czech Republic and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Kayak to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Don Cherry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Boredoms,
Bronski Beat,
Howard Jones,
Fluxion,
The Detroit Cobras,
Franke,
The Searchers,
Accadde A,
Kerri Chandler,
Joey Negro,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Shoche,
Avey Tare,
Johnny Clarke,
Siglo XX,
The Star Department,
Rapeman,
Pagans,
Q and Not U,
Drexciya,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sandy B,
Camouflage,
Yusef Lateef,
The Red Krayola,
James White and The Blacks,
Organ,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Association,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Skatalites,
Unwound,
Bill Near,
The Dirtbombs,
The Birthday Party,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Todd Terry,
Susan Cadogan,
Moebius,
Pantaleimon,
Ultravox,
Talk Talk,
Excepter,
Circle Jerks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ronan,
Marvin Gaye,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Associates,
Jerry's Kids,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moby Grape,
The Kinks,
Lakeside,
The Leaves,
Ituana,
Letta Mbulu,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.