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 Tunisia and from Manila.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar 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 Slits 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Faraquet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Swell Maps,
Sonic Youth,
the Normal,
Electric Prunes,
Lungfish,
The Velvet Underground,
The Beau Brummels,
Aloha Tigers,
Man Eating Sloth,
B.T. Express,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gladiators,
Dave Gahan,
Bush Tetras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eden Ahbez,
Joensuu 1685,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
CMW,
Amon Düül,
Warren Ellis,
Con Funk Shun,
Moebius,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Aural Exciters,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-101,
The Martian,
Zero Boys,
John Coltrane,
The Searchers,
Sound Behaviour,
David Bowie,
Gang Starr,
The Star Department,
The Gories,
Deepchord,
Alison Limerick,
Japan,
Pagans,
Crooked Eye,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Leonard Cohen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The J.B.'s,
Second Layer,
Brothers Johnson,
The Grass Roots,
Erasure,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Music Machine,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.