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 Kosovo and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
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 spring reverb 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gong,
Blake Baxter,
DJ Sneak,
Barrington Levy,
Qualms,
Lungfish,
ABBA,
Johnny Osbourne,
Echospace,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
World's Most,
Stetsasonic,
Peter and Kerry,
Bang On A Can,
John Cale,
Blossom Toes,
U.S. Maple,
Harpers Bizarre,
Man Parrish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Gil Scott Heron,
Donny Hathaway,
FM Einheit,
Idris Muhammad,
Boredoms,
F. McDonald,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
X-101,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aaron Thompson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
China Crisis,
Bronski Beat,
Cal Tjader,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Flag,
The Fugs,
June of 44,
The Dirtbombs,
Absolute Body Control,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Patti Smith,
B.T. Express,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Divine Comedy,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Tremeloes,
Cheater Slicks,
Pussy Galore,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terry Callier,
KRS-One,
Eve St. Jones,
Colin Newman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sister Nancy,
The Move,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mantronix,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.