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 Samoa and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 Sex Pistols to the disco 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
One Last Wish,
Stetsasonic,
Cheater Slicks,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
Metal Thangz,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Minny Pops,
The Monochrome Set,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eric Dolphy,
the Sonics,
The Fire Engines,
Banda Bassotti,
The Human League,
Joe Finger,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Coltrane,
Yaz,
The Mummies,
The Fugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Saints,
Moby Grape,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dual Sessions,
New Age Steppers,
Joensuu 1685,
Tim Buckley,
The Kinks,
Bobby Byrd,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Selecter,
Reagan Youth,
Slick Rick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dark Day,
The Alarm Clocks,
James White and The Blacks,
the Fania All-Stars,
World's Most,
Easy Going,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker,
Stereo Dub,
Kerrie Biddell,
Zero Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heaven 17,
Ludus,
Jawbox,
Ten City,
Agitation Free,
Charles Mingus,
The Count Five,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.