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 Israel and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 D'Angelo 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Janne Schatter,
Scion,
Franke,
Minutemen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nico,
Gastr Del Sol,
New York Dolls,
Buzzcocks,
Minor Threat,
Quadrant,
The Buckinghams,
Wally Richardson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deadbeat,
Marmalade,
The Busters,
Swans,
Moebius,
Infiniti,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sonics,
Youth Brigade,
Pagans,
The Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
AZ,
Roxette,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DJ Sneak,
New Order,
Kenny Larkin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Sonics,
Skarface,
the Association,
Gang Gang Dance,
Anthony Braxton,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Danielle Patucci,
Sugar Minott,
Oblivians,
The Divine Comedy,
Matthew Halsall,
Thompson Twins,
T. Rex,
The Trojans,
Hot Snakes,
Severed Heads,
Funky Four + One,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fear,
Soul Sonic Force,
Country Teasers,
Smog,
cv313,
Malaria!,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.