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 Austria and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 Jacob Miller to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Barrington Levy,
Smog,
Zapp,
DNA,
Mars,
the Soft Cell,
The Stooges,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Litter,
Alison Limerick,
Pole,
Sarah Menescal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Newcleus,
The Electric Prunes,
E-Dancer,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Y Pants,
Fear,
Alton Ellis,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Magma,
The Monks,
The Raincoats,
Deepchord,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Groovy Waters,
The Cramps,
This Heat,
Minor Threat,
Loose Ends,
Erykah Badu,
John Holt,
The Skatalites,
The Gap Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Tremeloes,
the Sonics,
K-Klass,
kango's stein massive,
The Fugs,
The Fortunes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jacob Miller,
The Index,
Pere Ubu,
The Busters,
Half Japanese,
Motorama,
Metal Thangz,
Ornette Coleman,
New Age Steppers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joe Smooth,
John Coltrane,
Second Layer,
Charles Mingus,
The Mojo Men,
Rapeman,
Hasil Adkins,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.