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 Jamaica and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gories to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
The Move,
Visage,
Masters at Work,
Ronnie Foster,
The Index,
Brand Nubian,
the Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Country Teasers,
Skaos,
Malaria!,
Mark Hollis,
Technova,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Görl,
The Black Dice,
The Neon Judgement,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Hot Snakes,
The Mummies,
Roxette,
Duran Duran,
The Cure,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ten City,
Jeff Mills,
Juan Atkins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Lynne,
Grauzone,
Deepchord,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Morten Harket,
Pylon,
Porter Ricks,
Radio Birdman,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick May,
Icehouse,
Gang of Four,
A Certain Ratio,
ABC,
Public Enemy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alton Ellis,
The United States of America,
Gang Green,
Sight & Sound,
Rhythm & Sound,
Swans,
The Last Poets,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Symarip,
Television,
Colin Newman,
Thompson Twins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.