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 Estonia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Germs to the punk 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
The Cure,
T. Rex,
Eurythmics,
Newcleus,
The American Breed,
Technova,
Godley & Creme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry's Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
Q65,
Tomorrow,
Rakim,
Minor Threat,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Five Americans,
Janne Schatter,
Shoche,
Fat Boys,
Camberwell Now,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Steve Hackett,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
AZ,
cv313,
Second Layer,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eric Dolphy,
The Gun Club,
Rufus Thomas,
The Electric Prunes,
Neu!,
Index,
Scratch Acid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blossom Toes,
LL Cool J,
FM Einheit,
The Motions,
Donny Hathaway,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sonic Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Funky Four + One,
Wire,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crash Course in Science,
Spoonie Gee,
T.S.O.L.,
Alice Coltrane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Scott Walker,
Barbara Tucker,
the Normal,
Pere Ubu,
The Litter,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.