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 Sudan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lindisfarne to the grunge 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Amon Düül II,
Echospace,
Qualms,
Los Fastidios,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
Easy Going,
The Fortunes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Average White Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Divine Comedy,
New Age Steppers,
The Velvet Underground,
Eden Ahbez,
Moss Icon,
Black Flag,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
The Skatalites,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bill Wells,
Audionom,
Bronski Beat,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Slits,
The Busters,
Dead Boys,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boredoms,
Matthew Halsall,
Public Enemy,
Essential Logic,
In Retrospect,
Q and Not U,
John Coltrane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mission of Burma,
LL Cool J,
The Saints,
Silicon Teens,
Scratch Acid,
Lakeside,
Theoretical Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Guru Guru,
Cabaret Voltaire,
AZ,
Blake Baxter,
The Slackers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
Stereo Dub,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mo-Dettes,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.