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 Singapore and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Girls At Our Best! to the grime 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Swans,
Shuggie Otis,
Pussy Galore,
Anakelly,
Ponytail,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blues Magoos,
Boz Scaggs,
Flash Fearless,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flipper,
Sparks,
the Normal,
Cal Tjader,
Alice Coltrane,
Deepchord,
Sun Ra,
Charles Mingus,
Chrome,
Albert Ayler,
Bronski Beat,
Guru Guru,
Bauhaus,
Derrick Morgan,
Don Cherry,
Boredoms,
Blancmange,
ABC,
The Young Rascals,
Hoover,
Mantronix,
Freddie Wadling,
Rhythm & Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Idris Muhammad,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Surgeon,
Can,
Kenny Larkin,
Magma,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Supertramp,
Wasted Youth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Japan,
Donny Hathaway,
Moss Icon,
DNA,
The Cramps,
Country Teasers,
Organ,
Simply Red,
Cameo,
Joensuu 1685,
This Heat,
Intrusion,
Gang Green,
Amazonics,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.