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 Kazakhstan and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator 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 Hasil Adkins to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Victims,
The American Breed,
the Germs,
PIL,
Darondo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brothers Johnson,
Traffic Nightmare,
a-ha,
Amazonics,
The Knickerbockers,
EPMD,
Popol Vuh,
Royal Trux,
The Move,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Red Krayola,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Foxx,
Girls At Our Best!,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Funkadelic,
Tres Demented,
John Lydon,
Joyce Sims,
The Litter,
Franke,
The Kinks,
Loose Ends,
Charles Mingus,
Quando Quango,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Real Kids,
Qualms,
June of 44,
Tomorrow,
The Neon Judgement,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Inner City,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lindisfarne,
Dark Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacques Brel,
The Electric Prunes,
Shuggie Otis,
Albert Ayler,
Minnie Riperton,
Minor Threat,
Marmalade,
John Coltrane,
Yellowson,
Visage,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fugs,
Sandy B,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.