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 Tuvalu and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Sao Paulo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crooked Eye to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Derrick May,
Glenn Branca,
Hardrive,
OOIOO,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pylon,
Matthew Halsall,
Erasure,
Nico,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Deepchord,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lungfish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rod Modell,
In Retrospect,
Don Cherry,
Scott Walker,
Wire,
Shoche,
Roxy Music,
Yusef Lateef,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boz Scaggs,
Stereo Dub,
Guru Guru,
New Order,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dave Gahan,
Darondo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sällskapet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Anakelly,
Panda Bear,
The Offenders,
Hashim,
Iggy Pop,
Brothers Johnson,
MC5,
Outsiders,
Absolute Body Control,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hoover,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Sonics,
Prince Buster,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ten City,
Suburban Knight,
Dark Day,
Black Flag,
Ralphi Rosario,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.