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 Czech Republic and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kerrie Biddell to the techno 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The Fugs,
Wally Richardson,
The Human League,
Joy Division,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Banda Bassotti,
The Monks,
Blancmange,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fat Boys,
Kas Product,
Sun City Girls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young,
The Residents,
David Axelrod,
Pierre Henry,
The Black Dice,
One Last Wish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rotary Connection,
The Barracudas,
Bill Near,
The Star Department,
Sound Behaviour,
Shuggie Otis,
Barry Ungar,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Blackbyrds,
Kurtis Blow,
Camouflage,
Wasted Youth,
Ronan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tom Boy,
X-101,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Spandau Ballet,
Liliput,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare,
Darondo,
The Standells,
Urselle,
The Gladiators,
Pet Shop Boys,
Average White Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Motorama,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bill Wells,
Excepter,
Circle Jerks,
The Pop Group,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.