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 Brazil and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the funk 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Lindisfarne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ornette Coleman,
Aswad,
Jeff Mills,
The Index,
the Germs,
Adolescents,
Deepchord,
Supertramp,
The Gories,
Wally Richardson,
Heaven 17,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fugazi,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Flag,
Royal Trux,
Connie Case,
The Victims,
The Searchers,
Tommy Roe,
Marmalade,
Agitation Free,
Kayak,
Accadde A,
Eddi Front,
Flipper,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Green,
Eden Ahbez,
Marc Almond,
The Sonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Lower 48,
Nico,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Wolf Eyes,
Flash Fearless,
The Real Kids,
Das Ding,
Frankie Knuckles,
Absolute Body Control,
Glenn Branca,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jandek,
Byron Stingily,
Rites of Spring,
Urselle,
The Gun Club,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Detroit Cobras,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Delon & Dalcan,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.