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 Netherlands and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Can to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
cv313,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mark Hollis,
Rakim,
Porter Ricks,
The Knickerbockers,
The Standells,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Max Romeo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Womack,
New York Dolls,
The Beau Brummels,
Moss Icon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Popol Vuh,
Althea and Donna,
Smog,
Thee Headcoats,
Qualms,
Whodini,
The Slits,
Ituana,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-102,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Seeds,
Accadde A,
The Gories,
The Associates,
Rotary Connection,
Neu!,
Easy Going,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funkadelic,
Harpers Bizarre,
James White and The Blacks,
the Soft Cell,
The Remains,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Birthday Party,
Bush Tetras,
Panda Bear,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Gladiators,
Barry Ungar,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Au Pairs,
Can,
Henry Cow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mo-Dettes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dawn Penn,
Visage,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tommy Roe,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.