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 Palau and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Barbara Tucker to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Faraquet,
The Slackers,
Fear,
The Wake,
Barry Ungar,
Thee Headcoats,
Kurtis Blow,
Sandy B,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Bananas,
Hoover,
Jerry's Kids,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Wyatt,
Babytalk,
Kayak,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wasted Youth,
Avey Tare,
Gichy Dan,
the Soft Cell,
Radiohead,
The Shadows of Knight,
Motorama,
Slave,
Andrew Hill,
Unwound,
Jawbox,
The Mummies,
The Electric Prunes,
LL Cool J,
Gang of Four,
Lindisfarne,
the Sonics,
The Names,
The Monks,
The Trojans,
Oblivians,
X-102,
Buzzcocks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
New Order,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Depeche Mode,
Mantronix,
Neu!,
Symarip,
Ponytail,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Au Pairs,
The Skatalites,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Human League,
Camberwell Now,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultra Naté,
The Fortunes,
Deakin,
Minny Pops,
Shoche,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.