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 Angola and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the punk 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker,
The Cowsills,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Cale,
Minutemen,
Andrew Hill,
The Moody Blues,
Intrusion,
Harmonia,
Skriet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pagans,
JFA,
Lou Christie,
Procol Harum,
Accadde A,
The Toasters,
Pussy Galore,
the Soft Cell,
David Bowie,
Black Sheep,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eric Dolphy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pole,
Theoretical Girls,
June Days,
Aural Exciters,
The Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
Jawbox,
Eve St. Jones,
Terry Callier,
Main Source,
Mandrill,
Babytalk,
Mr. Review,
Roxy Music,
Crooked Eye,
Man Eating Sloth,
Royal Trux,
Jimmy McGriff,
B.T. Express,
Joe Finger,
Khruangbin,
Section 25,
Freddie Wadling,
Graham Central Station,
Suicide,
Pylon,
Robert Wyatt,
Guru Guru,
Tommy Roe,
Yusef Lateef,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.