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 Norway and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Misunderstood to the rock 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marc Almond,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pussy Galore,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Bananas,
Eli Mardock,
Drexciya,
Agent Orange,
John Coltrane,
Unwound,
Alton Ellis,
Dawn Penn,
The J.B.'s,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sister Nancy,
Charles Mingus,
Magma,
Barry Ungar,
The Fugs,
Flipper,
Lou Reed,
One Last Wish,
Groovy Waters,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Interpol,
MC5,
Bobby Womack,
Livin' Joy,
The Smoke,
Half Japanese,
June of 44,
Khruangbin,
Gabor Szabo,
Joey Negro,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arcadia,
Procol Harum,
Mission of Burma,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pantaleimon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New Order,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Warsaw,
Fela Kuti,
Fat Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
Joe Finger,
John Cale,
Blossom Toes,
Grey Daturas,
Black Sheep,
Nils Olav,
Index,
Ludus,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.