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 United Kingdom and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Birthday Party to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kas Product,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Khruangbin,
Thee Headcoats,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Peter & Gordon,
Pole,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Silicon Teens,
Kurtis Blow,
Rod Modell,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Curtis Mayfield,
MC5,
Cecil Taylor,
The Birthday Party,
Black Sheep,
The Gladiators,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Victims,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Fraelich,
Agent Orange,
T.S.O.L.,
Lungfish,
Buzzcocks,
Altered Images,
Janne Schatter,
Wolf Eyes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Skatalites,
Robert Görl,
Deakin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gun Club,
Sister Nancy,
Suicide,
Audionom,
One Last Wish,
Technova,
Franke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Zero Boys,
Rekid,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Misunderstood,
Grauzone,
UT,
Mandrill,
The Blackbyrds,
The American Breed,
Minor Threat,
Kevin Saunderson,
X-102,
Das Ding,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.