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 Ethiopia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bill Near to the punk 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Brick,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Young Marble Giants,
Country Teasers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slits,
8 Eyed Spy,
Public Enemy,
Warren Ellis,
Qualms,
Organ,
Don Cherry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Altered Images,
One Last Wish,
Popol Vuh,
Quando Quango,
Mandrill,
Section 25,
Kerri Chandler,
Susan Cadogan,
Y Pants,
Infiniti,
Heaven 17,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Byrd,
Chrome,
Lalann,
Scion,
The Count Five,
Gang Gang Dance,
Aaron Thompson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Leaves,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
PIL,
Nas,
Quantec,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
FM Einheit,
The Zeros,
Magma,
Black Moon,
Jerry's Kids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ken Boothe,
X-Ray Spex,
Bronski Beat,
Anthony Braxton,
Iggy Pop,
Lungfish,
Deakin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glenn Branca,
Man Parrish,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.