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 Tanzania and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gabor Szabo to the electroclash 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kerri Chandler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Yazoo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mission of Burma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cybotron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
F. McDonald,
Mo-Dettes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Leonard Cohen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camouflage,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dorothy Ashby,
KRS-One,
Donald Byrd,
Icehouse,
The Dead C,
Arcadia,
Crispy Ambulance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Severed Heads,
Malaria!,
Talk Talk,
Toni Rubio,
Sandy B,
Chris Corsano,
Ossler,
Lucky Dragons,
the Sonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brothers Johnson,
Zapp,
Mark Hollis,
The Standells,
Tom Boy,
Supertramp,
Cal Tjader,
The Invisible,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Doors,
Harry Pussy,
Althea and Donna,
Unrelated Segments,
Lightning Bolt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Basic Channel,
Deepchord,
The Monochrome Set,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stiv Bators,
The Trojans,
Minnie Riperton,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.