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 Turkmenistan and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
The Cramps,
Echospace,
Quantec,
Robert Hood,
The Skatalites,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Albert Ayler,
Rakim,
Reagan Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eric Dolphy,
R.M.O.,
Slave,
The Moleskins,
The Mojo Men,
Ludus,
Bush Tetras,
Funkadelic,
Procol Harum,
David Bowie,
the Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cybotron,
This Heat,
Zero Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Star Department,
PIL,
Tubeway Army,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Sonics,
Nick Fraelich,
Spoonie Gee,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
Thee Headcoats,
Blake Baxter,
Andrew Hill,
Young Marble Giants,
Terrestrial Tones,
Spandau Ballet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Index,
The Gories,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Bananas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grey Daturas,
Flash Fearless,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Five Americans,
Hoover,
Peter & Gordon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Finger,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wings,
Newcleus,
Chris & Cosey,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.