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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Lou Reed 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Amon Düül II,
Hoover,
The Music Machine,
Charles Mingus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hashim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Almond,
Lightning Bolt,
Nik Kershaw,
Juan Atkins,
H. Thieme,
Joey Negro,
Das Ding,
John Cale,
Motorama,
the Swans,
Angry Samoans,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Birthday Party,
Newcleus,
Fugazi,
Subhumans,
Underground Resistance,
Minutemen,
Radio Birdman,
Alice Coltrane,
Lalann,
This Heat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chrome,
Sun City Girls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Real Kids,
The Invisible,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Godley & Creme,
Procol Harum,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fugs,
Mandrill,
the Germs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siglo XX,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jesper Dahlback,
The United States of America,
Half Japanese,
Fatback Band,
Slick Rick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rapeman,
Blancmange,
Quadrant,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.