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 Denmark and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Icehouse,
The Last Poets,
The Monks,
Radio Birdman,
The Toasters,
The Beau Brummels,
Rakim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Ken Boothe,
The Saints,
Organ,
K-Klass,
Deepchord,
Dead Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Magazine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brick,
Metal Thangz,
X-101,
Livin' Joy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Don Cherry,
Von Mondo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Warren Ellis,
Alphaville,
Radiopuhelimet,
Thee Headcoats,
UT,
Supertramp,
Motorama,
Blancmange,
Pantytec,
Bill Wells,
Q65,
F. McDonald,
Rhythm & Sound,
Derrick May,
Lou Reed,
Section 25,
Sandy B,
The Misunderstood,
The Stooges,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Darondo,
Agent Orange,
Angry Samoans,
Scrapy,
Glenn Branca,
Moss Icon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Yellowson,
Erasure,
The Mojo Men,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Grass Roots,
The Move,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.