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 San Marino and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Suicide to the jazz 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Don Cherry,
Popol Vuh,
Howard Jones,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bronski Beat,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Modern Lovers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Fania All-Stars,
PIL,
Lightning Bolt,
Masters at Work,
The Gladiators,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
D'Angelo,
Yusef Lateef,
June Days,
Barry Ungar,
The Electric Prunes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
a-ha,
Eric Copeland,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ponytail,
Sister Nancy,
The Raincoats,
The Selecter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Freddie Wadling,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DJ Style,
Tom Boy,
Roger Hodgson,
Toni Rubio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dennis Brown,
Stetsasonic,
Andrew Hill,
Deakin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Judy Mowatt,
Stereo Dub,
The United States of America,
Nirvana,
Simply Red,
The Barracudas,
Siglo XX,
Godley & Creme,
Neu!,
OOIOO,
Ronnie Foster,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Trojans,
Minny Pops,
Loose Ends,
Ice-T,
The Dirtbombs,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.