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 Nigeria and from Mexico City.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Birthday Party to the funk 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Index,
Cecil Taylor,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Wake,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shoche,
Eric Dolphy,
Jandek,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
AZ,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Germs,
Max Romeo,
Q and Not U,
Saccharine Trust,
The Victims,
Sex Pistols,
Youth Brigade,
Michelle Simonal,
Nils Olav,
Ornette Coleman,
ABC,
Andrew Hill,
Eden Ahbez,
UT,
Newcleus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scott Walker,
The Golliwogs,
The Real Kids,
Eli Mardock,
The Gladiators,
Sarah Menescal,
Popol Vuh,
Robert Görl,
Con Funk Shun,
Chrome,
Dead Boys,
Yellowson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lucky Dragons,
Zero Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bob Dylan,
Maleditus Sound,
Godley & Creme,
Los Fastidios,
John Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Television Personalities,
The United States of America,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.