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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Madrid.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wells to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Dorothy Ashby,
Desert Stars,
The Barracudas,
The Velvet Underground,
the Germs,
Panda Bear,
Mo-Dettes,
cv313,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Basic Channel,
Saccharine Trust,
Silicon Teens,
48th St. Collective,
Cymande,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Monks,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moss Icon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jeru the Damaja,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bluetip,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Evens,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dirtbombs,
The Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cybotron,
R.M.O.,
Sandy B,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Wake,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yaz,
T.S.O.L.,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül II,
Alice Coltrane,
Ohio Players,
Lebanon Hanover,
Spandau Ballet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Albert Ayler,
The Cramps,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Severed Heads,
Swans,
Steve Hackett,
Duran Duran,
Wolf Eyes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Slits,
The Standells,
Scientists,
The Red Krayola,
Bang On A Can,
Lou Reed,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.