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 Gambia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 Spoonie Gee to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Country Teasers,
The Selecter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Soft Cell,
The Pretty Things,
Simply Red,
Smog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cecil Taylor,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
D'Angelo,
The Busters,
Supertramp,
Radiohead,
Stetsasonic,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drexciya,
Erasure,
Boogie Down Productions,
Derrick May,
Panda Bear,
Chris Corsano,
Q and Not U,
Sister Nancy,
DJ Style,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pierre Henry,
Slave,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ken Boothe,
The Seeds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Niagra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oblivians,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Dirtbombs,
Scientists,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Moleskins,
The Neon Judgement,
Stockholm Monsters,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Moon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Hood,
The J.B.'s,
T.S.O.L.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Moss Icon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Accadde A,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tres Demented,
Bill Wells,
Fela Kuti,
Unrelated Segments,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.