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 Suriname and from New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Drexciya to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
June Days,
Terry Callier,
The Human League,
Schoolly D,
Rekid,
Television,
Nas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ludus,
Symarip,
Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Vladislav Delay,
Pantytec,
Royal Trux,
Lucky Dragons,
Nirvana,
The Moleskins,
JFA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Warren Ellis,
Interpol,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bush Tetras,
CMW,
Minny Pops,
Inner City,
Accadde A,
Shoche,
Lungfish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bluetip,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rakim,
Sam Rivers,
John Lydon,
John Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Severed Heads,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dirtbombs,
Hardrive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harry Pussy,
Eric Copeland,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Beau Brummels,
The Vogues,
Barrington Levy,
Excepter,
Moebius,
Mark Hollis,
Buzzcocks,
a-ha,
Angry Samoans,
Crash Course in Science,
Organ,
Popol Vuh,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.