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 Albania and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 Sight & Sound to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
The Selecter,
Black Moon,
MC5,
Rapeman,
Sugar Minott,
E-Dancer,
Sällskapet,
The Kinks,
Deepchord,
Theoretical Girls,
Organ,
Gabor Szabo,
Heaven 17,
The Dead C,
Aloha Tigers,
Au Pairs,
The Remains,
Piero Umiliani,
Janne Schatter,
Schoolly D,
The Zeros,
Robert Wyatt,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mummies,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Graham Central Station,
Jeff Mills,
Young Marble Giants,
Talk Talk,
Dead Boys,
a-ha,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Prunes,
Godley & Creme,
Popol Vuh,
Neil Young,
Davy DMX,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Charles Mingus,
Wings,
Peter & Gordon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Boredoms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
This Heat,
Dark Day,
The Sound,
Joe Smooth,
Das Ding,
Siglo XX,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
June of 44,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barbara Tucker,
Jerry's Kids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Interpol,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.