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 Eritrea and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the jazz 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
DNA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Association,
Intrusion,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kenny Larkin,
Quantec,
Nico,
Kaleidoscope,
Pierre Henry,
Franke,
Flash Fearless,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cecil Taylor,
Tubeway Army,
Fear,
Malaria!,
Clear Light,
Bad Manners,
Suburban Knight,
The Fuzztones,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Monks,
Whodini,
Tom Boy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mr. Review,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Womack,
Eli Mardock,
Matthew Halsall,
Barry Ungar,
The Smiths,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Leaves,
Au Pairs,
Television Personalities,
Ossler,
Magma,
Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deakin,
Pole,
Mars,
Mo-Dettes,
Reuben Wilson,
Albert Ayler,
Wire,
Minny Pops,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eric B and Rakim,
Popol Vuh,
Todd Rundgren,
Camberwell Now,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.