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 Chad and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Lou Reed 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 Severed Heads to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Depeche Mode,
X-Ray Spex,
Slick Rick,
Tom Boy,
Wire,
Average White Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Saints,
Judy Mowatt,
Al Stewart,
Ludus,
Black Moon,
Theoretical Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
Black Sheep,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bill Near,
Motorama,
Clear Light,
The Human League,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Offenders,
Angry Samoans,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Mills,
Yaz,
The Grass Roots,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
James Chance & The Contortions,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott Heron,
Desert Stars,
Pierre Henry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rites of Spring,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ken Boothe,
The Barracudas,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tres Demented,
Gong,
Boredoms,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T. Rex,
Groovy Waters,
Quando Quango,
JFA,
Moby Grape,
The Seeds,
Robert Wyatt,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.