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 Burundi and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Piero Umiliani to the grunge 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Main Source,
Maleditus Sound,
Los Fastidios,
The Angels of Light,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants,
The Pretty Things,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
Eli Mardock,
Niagra,
The Slits,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Selecter,
Half Japanese,
the Swans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soul II Soul,
Bauhaus,
Tim Buckley,
Kenny Larkin,
Rod Modell,
Dual Sessions,
The Music Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
Derrick May,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter and Kerry,
Supertramp,
Roxy Music,
The Durutti Column,
Isaac Hayes,
DJ Style,
The Moody Blues,
The Wake,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nico,
The Offenders,
Blossom Toes,
Alison Limerick,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Roxette,
Arcadia,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amon Düül II,
Kas Product,
Tres Demented,
Mark Hollis,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Wings,
Bobbi Humphrey,
La Düsseldorf,
Rites of Spring,
The Dead C,
Scott Walker,
Pierre Henry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
K-Klass,
Aural Exciters,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.