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 Argentina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Fortunes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Sister Nancy,
Susan Cadogan,
Trumans Water,
The Fuzztones,
Pole,
the Slits,
Monks,
Surgeon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sound Behaviour,
The Raincoats,
The Last Poets,
Technova,
the Bar-Kays,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mantronix,
Radiohead,
Tim Buckley,
Be Bop Deluxe,
EPMD,
The J.B.'s,
Toni Rubio,
The Mummies,
Cymande,
Sparks,
The Skatalites,
Rakim,
Warren Ellis,
The Techniques,
Black Pus,
The Evens,
Jacob Miller,
The Black Dice,
Swans,
Theoretical Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
cv313,
Roxy Music,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Soft Cell,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Flag,
Bad Manners,
Rapeman,
Make Up,
Desert Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
MDC,
Groovy Waters,
Half Japanese,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
Lalo Schifrin,
Subhumans,
Nico,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.