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 Romania and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 The Dead C to the crunk 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Deakin,
Tres Demented,
Chris & Cosey,
Zapp,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Reuben Wilson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Swell Maps,
Deadbeat,
Monks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Flag,
The Beau Brummels,
Mad Mike,
Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
Smog,
ABBA,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Panda Bear,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fatback Band,
Barry Ungar,
Alphaville,
Frankie Knuckles,
Erykah Badu,
Don Cherry,
Half Japanese,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Maurizio,
Ituana,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mission of Burma,
Skarface,
Cymande,
Ultravox,
Country Teasers,
Eric Dolphy,
The Raincoats,
Jacob Miller,
10cc,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cluster,
Rod Modell,
The Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fela Kuti,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harry Pussy,
Symarip,
The Index,
The Barracudas,
Banda Bassotti,
Laurel Aitken,
Zero Boys,
The Tremeloes,
Minor Threat,
The Golliwogs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.