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 Chad and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
The Vogues,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pretty Things,
The Misunderstood,
Glenn Branca,
Barbara Tucker,
Massinfluence,
Gang Starr,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jimmy McGriff,
T. Rex,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joyce Sims,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Offenders,
Gang of Four,
DJ Style,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Idris Muhammad,
8 Eyed Spy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sugar Minott,
Scan 7,
Terrestrial Tones,
Newcleus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nico,
Radio Birdman,
A Certain Ratio,
Gabor Szabo,
Magazine,
Fad Gadget,
Lee Hazlewood,
Soulsonic Force,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Barracudas,
Neil Young,
Hot Snakes,
The Five Americans,
Maurizio,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delta 5,
Grey Daturas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Skarface,
Jandek,
Radiopuhelimet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nas,
The Cowsills,
The Stooges,
Jacques Brel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rites of Spring,
DJ Sneak,
Parry Music,
Basic Channel,
Steve Hackett,
Con Funk Shun,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.