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 Sri Lanka and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the electroclash 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims 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?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gabor Szabo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Kinks,
Ornette Coleman,
Stereo Dub,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neil Young,
OOIOO,
The Standells,
Mark Hollis,
Vainqueur,
The Fortunes,
James White and The Blacks,
KRS-One,
The Birthday Party,
Bob Dylan,
Masters at Work,
Soul II Soul,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sonics,
Japan,
Junior Murvin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun Ra,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Sherman,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Neu!,
Derrick Morgan,
Joey Negro,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cramps,
The Modern Lovers,
Sight & Sound,
Surgeon,
Mandrill,
Althea and Donna,
The Busters,
Lou Christie,
Bronski Beat,
Sam Rivers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry's Kids,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Buzzcocks,
The Tremeloes,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
The Beau Brummels,
The Knickerbockers,
Y Pants,
UT,
John Holt,
New Order,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.