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 Cape Verde and from Winnipeg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Theoretical Girls to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Intrusion,
Sister Nancy,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Remains,
Pussy Galore,
Cameo,
Glenn Branca,
MC5,
John Lydon,
Amon Düül II,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Suburban Knight,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
MDC,
Quando Quango,
Altered Images,
The Count Five,
Inner City,
Lightning Bolt,
8 Eyed Spy,
The American Breed,
the Germs,
Rotary Connection,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Reed,
B.T. Express,
New York Dolls,
The Invisible,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pylon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jesper Dahlback,
Radio Birdman,
Niagra,
the Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxy Music,
Khruangbin,
Black Pus,
Donald Byrd,
The Martian,
Fatback Band,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Dave Gahan,
The Saints,
Todd Terry,
The Velvet Underground,
KRS-One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Parry Music,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Index,
Black Moon,
Aaron Thompson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roger Hodgson,
Aswad,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stereo Dub,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.