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 East Timor and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin 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 Blossom Toes to the rap 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Yazoo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Crime,
Dark Day,
La Düsseldorf,
Los Fastidios,
Black Pus,
New Age Steppers,
The Birthday Party,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lou Reed,
The J.B.'s,
Magma,
Tubeway Army,
Tom Boy,
The Cowsills,
Scion,
Kool Moe Dee,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Moon,
Josef K,
Jerry's Kids,
Henry Cow,
Liliput,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pagans,
Technova,
John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Yazoo,
Maleditus Sound,
Oneida,
The Index,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Sonics,
Patti Smith,
New York Dolls,
The Misunderstood,
Andrew Hill,
Ash Ra Tempel,
A Certain Ratio,
Whodini,
the Soft Cell,
Can,
Unrelated Segments,
Agitation Free,
Dorothy Ashby,
Procol Harum,
Loose Ends,
Jacques Brel,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Raincoats,
Japan,
Subhumans,
Nils Olav,
KRS-One,
Hoover,
Kaleidoscope,
Saccharine Trust,
Soft Cell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ice-T,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.