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 Belarus and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron 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 Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
The Kinks,
Minny Pops,
The Cure,
Joyce Sims,
Bob Dylan,
Suicide,
Vladislav Delay,
Joe Finger,
The Angels of Light,
Leonard Cohen,
Half Japanese,
Joey Negro,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Wyatt,
Wasted Youth,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Germs,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun City Girls,
Alton Ellis,
Piero Umiliani,
Sound Behaviour,
Sex Pistols,
The Music Machine,
Section 25,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nirvana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tears for Fears,
Connie Case,
Scientists,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Circle Jerks,
EPMD,
Fugazi,
The Beau Brummels,
The Doors,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Birthday Party,
John Cale,
Terry Callier,
Yazoo,
James White and The Blacks,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Chrome,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Popol Vuh,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brick,
Altered Images,
The Slackers,
Robert Hood,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Bananas,
Pagans,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Main Source,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.