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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
The Litter,
Eurythmics,
Agent Orange,
Jandek,
Deepchord,
Skarface,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Connie Case,
Rakim,
Byron Stingily,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bluetip,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dead Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Erasure,
Donald Byrd,
Amazonics,
June of 44,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Delta 5,
Lower 48,
L. Decosne,
the Slits,
World's Most,
Slave,
Whodini,
Crash Course in Science,
Thompson Twins,
Niagra,
The Seeds,
Crooked Eye,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Sheep,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mars,
Arcadia,
The Modern Lovers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fear,
Gang Starr,
Oblivians,
Patti Smith,
Johnny Clarke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marine Girls,
Cheater Slicks,
Motorama,
Neu!,
Mission of Burma,
Fat Boys,
Warren Ellis,
Loose Ends,
The Mojo Men,
Godley & Creme,
Smog,
Metal Thangz,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.