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 Nauru and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pole to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
ABBA,
The Fall,
Angry Samoans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Mills,
Qualms,
Boredoms,
Von Mondo,
Trumans Water,
Public Enemy,
Mark Hollis,
Roger Hodgson,
The Mojo Men,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Skatalites,
Carl Craig,
The Wake,
Goldenarms,
The Names,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dual Sessions,
Spandau Ballet,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Inner City,
The Raincoats,
Hashim,
Avey Tare,
Joensuu 1685,
Scratch Acid,
Cluster,
Gang of Four,
Audionom,
Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Ice-T,
La Düsseldorf,
Deakin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Swans,
CMW,
Archie Shepp,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Severed Heads,
Laurel Aitken,
John Holt,
Gang Green,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Minor Threat,
Nick Fraelich,
MDC,
Radiohead,
The Slits,
Dawn Penn,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.