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 Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Angry Samoans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Khruangbin 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?
Minutemen,
Terry Callier,
China Crisis,
Camouflage,
Tom Boy,
Skriet,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Saccharine Trust,
The Gories,
Rotary Connection,
The Sound,
Au Pairs,
Chrome,
The Pop Group,
Sun City Girls,
Soft Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Real Kids,
Brick,
Moss Icon,
Byron Stingily,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Todd Terry,
Pere Ubu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fugazi,
Lucky Dragons,
The Kinks,
Joey Negro,
The Five Americans,
John Coltrane,
Alice Coltrane,
Wire,
Lindisfarne,
Eli Mardock,
Howard Jones,
Q65,
Alphaville,
Underground Resistance,
Juan Atkins,
Agitation Free,
Flipper,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacques Brel,
Eve St. Jones,
The Neon Judgement,
Graham Central Station,
Davy DMX,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Slave,
Crispy Ambulance,
Flash Fearless,
Crooked Eye,
Excepter,
Shuggie Otis,
Swell Maps,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.