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 Estonia and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin 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 The Young Rascals to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Scan 7,
Blossom Toes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dark Day,
Gastr Del Sol,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Panda Bear,
the Germs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bluetip,
Altered Images,
Stereo Dub,
Sonic Youth,
Accadde A,
Glenn Branca,
The Fire Engines,
Slick Rick,
Eddi Front,
Chrome,
The Gories,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Desert Stars,
Black Pus,
John Holt,
Gang Starr,
Wally Richardson,
The Smoke,
Inner City,
Kool Moe Dee,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fugs,
The Cramps,
This Heat,
Stiv Bators,
F. McDonald,
Half Japanese,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxy Music,
The Blues Magoos,
Lungfish,
Little Man,
Yellowson,
Rosa Yemen,
John Lydon,
The Skatalites,
Dual Sessions,
Magazine,
Procol Harum,
The Residents,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Icehouse,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lindisfarne,
D'Angelo,
Spoonie Gee,
Scion,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.