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 Maldives and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Move 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harmonia,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tres Demented,
Erykah Badu,
DJ Style,
Boogie Down Productions,
Underground Resistance,
Eric Copeland,
Laurel Aitken,
Harry Pussy,
Mandrill,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fall,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Black Dice,
Steve Hackett,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Interpol,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
Guru Guru,
Crime,
Warsaw,
Iggy Pop,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flamin' Groovies,
Smog,
The Mummies,
Wasted Youth,
The Star Department,
The Blues Magoos,
Pantytec,
Stiv Bators,
Young Marble Giants,
Circle Jerks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Neu!,
David McCallum,
Quadrant,
Terry Callier,
Fatback Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Henry Cow,
La Düsseldorf,
Make Up,
Cluster,
Wire,
Royal Trux,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camouflage,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
Soul II Soul,
A Certain Ratio,
Barry Ungar,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.