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 United States and from Cairo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum 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 Eric Copeland to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun City Girls,
The Names,
Main Source,
Soul Sonic Force,
Buzzcocks,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
This Heat,
The Human League,
Joe Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crispy Ambulance,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Shuggie Otis,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Christie,
K-Klass,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Selecter,
The Slits,
Scion,
Cecil Taylor,
Alton Ellis,
Animal Collective,
The Index,
Lindisfarne,
Drexciya,
Reuben Wilson,
Guru Guru,
Bauhaus,
Youth Brigade,
Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Nirvana,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeff Mills,
La Düsseldorf,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Buckinghams,
Althea and Donna,
Wings,
Nas,
Desert Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smoke,
Sparks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Neu!,
Robert Hood,
The Misunderstood,
Pussy Galore,
Television,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.