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 Mongolia and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare 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 Beau Brummels to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Martian,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Spandau Ballet,
Metal Thangz,
Interpol,
Black Sheep,
ABC,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Germs,
Ice-T,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Steve Hackett,
Blake Baxter,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
James White and The Blacks,
Flipper,
Country Teasers,
Roger Hodgson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Womack,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Connie Case,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Litter,
Essential Logic,
Skriet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barclay James Harvest,
H. Thieme,
the Human League,
Todd Terry,
The Moleskins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dennis Brown,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joensuu 1685,
Eric Dolphy,
Terry Callier,
The J.B.'s,
The Fire Engines,
Minnie Riperton,
The Toasters,
Unrelated Segments,
Tres Demented,
Eric Copeland,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Can,
Bronski Beat,
Stockholm Monsters,
Duran Duran,
Nico,
Lucky Dragons,
Symarip,
The Blues Magoos,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.