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 El Salvador and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Quando Quango to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
The Slits,
The Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Remains,
Black Sheep,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Buzzcocks,
Dark Day,
The Divine Comedy,
DJ Style,
Fear,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-101,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sandy B,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sun Ra,
Das Ding,
Ohio Players,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Trumans Water,
Camouflage,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Grass Roots,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deepchord,
Lakeside,
Eric Copeland,
Cymande,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Birthday Party,
Colin Newman,
Kerri Chandler,
48th St. Collective,
Desert Stars,
Man Parrish,
The Black Dice,
Vladislav Delay,
Patti Smith,
Q65,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skriet,
Scientists,
Isaac Hayes,
Fela Kuti,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens,
KRS-One,
The Walker Brothers,
Second Layer,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
B.T. Express,
Scan 7,
The Flesh Eaters,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
Ornette Coleman,
Aaron Thompson,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.