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 Tonga and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Smiths to the disco 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves 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?
The Kinks,
Ohio Players,
The Stooges,
Tom Boy,
The Raincoats,
Fat Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
PIL,
Tubeway Army,
The Buckinghams,
Infiniti,
Jesper Dahlback,
kango's stein massive,
Khruangbin,
Sonic Youth,
Panda Bear,
Scan 7,
The Searchers,
Maleditus Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
John Foxx,
Dawn Penn,
Warsaw,
F. McDonald,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultra Naté,
Peter and Kerry,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare,
Cameo,
Deakin,
Intrusion,
New Order,
Curtis Mayfield,
Popol Vuh,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Youth Brigade,
Masters at Work,
Anthony Braxton,
Sonny Sharrock,
K-Klass,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moby Grape,
The Happenings,
Todd Rundgren,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rhythm & Sound,
Yellowson,
Derrick Morgan,
Suburban Knight,
the Germs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
June of 44,
Dead Boys,
The Pretty Things,
the Slits,
Howard Jones,
Kurtis Blow,
The Young Rascals,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.