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 Kazakhstan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the snare 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 John Lydon to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Mars,
Suicide,
Moby Grape,
The American Breed,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pagans,
Reuben Wilson,
The Moleskins,
Fatback Band,
Sex Pistols,
Arcadia,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kenny Larkin,
Rekid,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cecil Taylor,
Groovy Waters,
Swell Maps,
Popol Vuh,
Loose Ends,
Dawn Penn,
Interpol,
Skarface,
Goldenarms,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eve St. Jones,
Grey Daturas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pylon,
Smog,
ABBA,
The Dirtbombs,
Basic Channel,
Barrington Levy,
Slave,
Bad Manners,
Flipper,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Freddie Wadling,
Audionom,
EPMD,
This Heat,
Camouflage,
Crooked Eye,
The Fall,
Circle Jerks,
Todd Rundgren,
Zapp,
Jandek,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joensuu 1685,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
Fad Gadget,
Supertramp,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quadrant,
Outsiders,
The Beau Brummels,
The Motions,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.