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 Argentina and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Roxy Music to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Silicon Teens,
Minor Threat,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gabor Szabo,
Yaz,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Walker Brothers,
Heaven 17,
The Neon Judgement,
Aswad,
Suicide,
AZ,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Pop Group,
Section 25,
Roxy Music,
Fatback Band,
Japan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang On A Can,
Agent Orange,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cure,
Janne Schatter,
Tom Boy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Thee Headcoats,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bill Wells,
Hoover,
Hot Snakes,
Desert Stars,
Ossler,
Mark Hollis,
The Slits,
L. Decosne,
Iggy Pop,
PIL,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faraquet,
B.T. Express,
Funkadelic,
the Human League,
Sight & Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marvin Gaye,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Zapp,
DJ Style,
Television Personalities,
Simply Red,
Massinfluence,
One Last Wish,
The Toasters,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fugs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Siglo XX,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.