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 Ivory Coast and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 PIL 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
Dark Day,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
L. Decosne,
Black Bananas,
Soft Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Negative Approach,
Sparks,
Popol Vuh,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
LL Cool J,
Make Up,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Gladiators,
Japan,
Donald Byrd,
The Detroit Cobras,
Warsaw,
Nas,
Barbara Tucker,
Sound Behaviour,
Alison Limerick,
John Coltrane,
Sam Rivers,
John Holt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fad Gadget,
Hardrive,
Marcia Griffiths,
Model 500,
Crooked Eye,
Swans,
The Pretty Things,
Silicon Teens,
Eric Copeland,
Subhumans,
Organ,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sex Pistols,
R.M.O.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Sneak,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Masters at Work,
Kurtis Blow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crime,
Toni Rubio,
Buzzcocks,
EPMD,
This Heat,
The Wake,
Harmonia,
Nils Olav,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Faust,
Heaven 17,
Kas Product,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.