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 Micronesia and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Toasters to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Pus,
Minutemen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
This Heat,
Magazine,
Section 25,
Zero Boys,
The Count Five,
The Standells,
The Durutti Column,
The Busters,
Soul Sonic Force,
Josef K,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Absolute Body Control,
Rekid,
Jandek,
Stiv Bators,
Mad Mike,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mark Hollis,
Harmonia,
Jeff Mills,
Interpol,
Moebius,
The Dirtbombs,
Depeche Mode,
Reagan Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Qualms,
Warren Ellis,
Charles Mingus,
Tres Demented,
Janne Schatter,
The American Breed,
Thompson Twins,
Blancmange,
Isaac Hayes,
Danielle Patucci,
Marine Girls,
Lyres,
Glambeats Corp.,
Slick Rick,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Amon Düül,
David Bowie,
The Trojans,
China Crisis,
Camberwell Now,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Howard Jones,
Vainqueur,
Oblivians,
June of 44,
Quando Quango,
The Divine Comedy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Finger,
Agent Orange,
Fugazi,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.