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 New Zealand and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum 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 Eric Copeland to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Laurel Aitken,
David McCallum,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Reuben Wilson,
Accadde A,
Erasure,
The Slackers,
The Names,
Sun City Girls,
X-102,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Todd Rundgren,
Anthony Braxton,
Tubeway Army,
Outsiders,
Rapeman,
Derrick Morgan,
Avey Tare,
Robert Görl,
Eurythmics,
the Sonics,
New York Dolls,
Patti Smith,
Glenn Branca,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Los Fastidios,
Drexciya,
Althea and Donna,
Pole,
Archie Shepp,
Tomorrow,
Gong,
The Blues Magoos,
Mandrill,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Von Mondo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lungfish,
Sam Rivers,
Icehouse,
Peter and Kerry,
Oneida,
Simply Red,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minutemen,
Barry Ungar,
Barclay James Harvest,
Whodini,
The Music Machine,
The Seeds,
Rosa Yemen,
Bronski Beat,
Harmonia,
Buzzcocks,
Animal Collective,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Essential Logic,
the Bar-Kays,
The Searchers,
Leonard Cohen,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.