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 Ecuador and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the funk 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Leonard Cohen,
Lower 48,
The Gories,
the Swans,
Guru Guru,
Los Fastidios,
Junior Murvin,
Tears for Fears,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Byrd,
Schoolly D,
Interpol,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ice-T,
Bobby Womack,
Drive Like Jehu,
Negative Approach,
Mandrill,
Harry Pussy,
Qualms,
The Golliwogs,
John Holt,
Massinfluence,
Neil Young,
The Blackbyrds,
Newcleus,
Suicide,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kerri Chandler,
Don Cherry,
Robert Görl,
Funkadelic,
Scan 7,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scion,
Shuggie Otis,
The Saints,
The Buckinghams,
Gang Gang Dance,
R.M.O.,
Bluetip,
John Coltrane,
Skarface,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Trumans Water,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Monks,
Goldenarms,
This Heat,
Lou Christie,
the Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ludus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Durutti Column,
Public Enemy,
The Leaves,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.