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 Ghana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Remains to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Bauhaus,
Judy Mowatt,
R.M.O.,
Goldenarms,
The Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Raincoats,
Mary Jane Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
Lucky Dragons,
Echospace,
Brass Construction,
Deadbeat,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Near,
Liliput,
Popol Vuh,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Jawbox,
Johnny Clarke,
Siglo XX,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marshall Jefferson,
Chris & Cosey,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cheater Slicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nik Kershaw,
Boredoms,
The Names,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultimate Spinach,
Y Pants,
Circle Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Black Pus,
Pantaleimon,
Thee Headcoats,
Kurtis Blow,
Derrick May,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Neu!,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Carl Craig,
Pulsallama,
Brick,
Kenny Larkin,
Hasil Adkins,
Arcadia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ken Boothe,
The Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Janne Schatter,
Yellowson,
The Techniques,
The Beau Brummels,
Vainqueur,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.