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 Guatemala and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Flesh Eaters to the jazz 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Boz Scaggs,
Henry Cow,
Hot Snakes,
Depeche Mode,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bill Near,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lalo Schifrin,
Warren Ellis,
the Normal,
Mark Hollis,
The Tremeloes,
Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
Deakin,
Marine Girls,
Accadde A,
Thompson Twins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Amazonics,
JFA,
Magma,
the Slits,
10cc,
Pulsallama,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dennis Brown,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric Copeland,
Little Man,
Avey Tare,
Eli Mardock,
Barrington Levy,
Brass Construction,
Brick,
Main Source,
Joy Division,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Freddie Wadling,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nirvana,
Siglo XX,
Agent Orange,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lower 48,
Jeff Mills,
Rekid,
The Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Maleditus Sound,
Junior Murvin,
Bush Tetras,
Juan Atkins,
Cheater Slicks,
Pere Ubu,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.