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 Vanuatu and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scrapy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Fela Kuti,
Mandrill,
Man Parrish,
Bootsy Collins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Franke,
Alice Coltrane,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Niagra,
The Tremeloes,
Andrew Hill,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bob Dylan,
The Star Department,
Bobby Sherman,
The Searchers,
The Fuzztones,
Electric Prunes,
Black Bananas,
Shuggie Otis,
Bad Manners,
Bush Tetras,
Byron Stingily,
Minutemen,
Pantaleimon,
a-ha,
the Association,
Organ,
Darondo,
John Holt,
The Five Americans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eli Mardock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Black Dice,
Wolf Eyes,
Lucky Dragons,
Blancmange,
Liliput,
the Germs,
The Kinks,
Yusef Lateef,
Roy Ayers,
Colin Newman,
Sister Nancy,
The Move,
Barry Ungar,
Pagans,
Sixth Finger,
Goldenarms,
Derrick May,
Aaron Thompson,
Spandau Ballet,
Quadrant,
Suburban Knight,
Swell Maps,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.