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 Bolivia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Basic Channel to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Shuggie Otis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dave Gahan,
Maleditus Sound,
Marine Girls,
Faust,
Shoche,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rites of Spring,
The Black Dice,
The Gories,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q65,
The Evens,
The Remains,
The Fire Engines,
The Tremeloes,
Cluster,
Oblivians,
X-101,
Parry Music,
Suburban Knight,
Angry Samoans,
Jawbox,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pierre Henry,
Graham Central Station,
Tres Demented,
Boogie Down Productions,
EPMD,
Sam Rivers,
AZ,
Second Layer,
Public Image Ltd.,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mummies,
Bootsy Collins,
L. Decosne,
Jeff Mills,
Infiniti,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Toasters,
ABC,
Tom Boy,
MC5,
Thee Headcoats,
Section 25,
H. Thieme,
The Standells,
Kaleidoscope,
The Cowsills,
The Angels of Light,
Sun Ra,
Dawn Penn,
Pylon,
Bang On A Can,
Blancmange,
The Saints,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.