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 Kosovo and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 Scratch Acid to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
The Neon Judgement,
Laurel Aitken,
X-Ray Spex,
Althea and Donna,
Technova,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Skaos,
These Immortal Souls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Popol Vuh,
June Days,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Walker Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
The Busters,
The Modern Lovers,
The Black Dice,
Shuggie Otis,
Marc Almond,
Oneida,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angry Samoans,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Trojans,
Deakin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Howard Jones,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Carl Craig,
Agent Orange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Depeche Mode,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donny Hathaway,
Tommy Roe,
Lou Christie,
Amon Düül,
Deadbeat,
The Star Department,
Anthony Braxton,
Darondo,
Severed Heads,
The United States of America,
The Gladiators,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Chrome,
Sparks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scion,
Skriet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magma,
Byron Stingily,
Cheater Slicks,
Cameo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nas,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.