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 Slovenia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Junior Murvin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Swans,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cramps,
Vladislav Delay,
Unwound,
New Age Steppers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Electric Prunes,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fuzztones,
Sparks,
Quantec,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pussy Galore,
The Real Kids,
The Kinks,
Bronski Beat,
Pantytec,
PIL,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barrington Levy,
Adolescents,
The Divine Comedy,
Aswad,
Kerri Chandler,
Mr. Review,
Wire,
B.T. Express,
World's Most,
Deakin,
Fluxion,
Desert Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharoah Sanders,
A Certain Ratio,
Silicon Teens,
Dawn Penn,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neu!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Section 25,
Jacques Brel,
Thee Headcoats,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cal Tjader,
Loose Ends,
the Sonics,
Sound Behaviour,
The Velvet Underground,
ABC,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Seeds,
Minny Pops,
Yusef Lateef,
Fat Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ten City,
Minutemen,
Ornette Coleman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.