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 Colombia and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Essential Logic to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force 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 theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Lalo Schifrin,
Albert Ayler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
R.M.O.,
Alice Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
The Last Poets,
Livin' Joy,
Pagans,
Tears for Fears,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Subhumans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
Guru Guru,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lightning Bolt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rakim,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sonics,
EPMD,
Marine Girls,
Audionom,
The Red Krayola,
Minnie Riperton,
Parry Music,
48th St. Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
Blake Baxter,
Robert Hood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marmalade,
Yellowson,
Sex Pistols,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare,
Oneida,
Shoche,
The Invisible,
Moby Grape,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rekid,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sällskapet,
The Move,
The Saints,
the Germs,
Maleditus Sound,
The Index,
The Raincoats,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Real Kids,
Hardrive,
Mad Mike,
Bad Manners,
Q and Not U,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.