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 Mexico and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 Gabor Szabo to the rap 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Charles Mingus,
the Slits,
Delta 5,
Severed Heads,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aloha Tigers,
Freddie Wadling,
Donald Byrd,
Slave,
Kenny Larkin,
Minny Pops,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Thee Headcoats,
Porter Ricks,
Glenn Branca,
Quadrant,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Starr,
Scientists,
Ponytail,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Durutti Column,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Stereo Dub,
Parry Music,
The Doors,
Gang of Four,
Scion,
Matthew Bourne,
Basic Channel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Massinfluence,
Tom Boy,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pretty Things,
Joy Division,
The Fire Engines,
Amon Düül,
Man Parrish,
The Red Krayola,
Barrington Levy,
The Human League,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Carl Craig,
Warren Ellis,
Rod Modell,
X-102,
Junior Murvin,
Kurtis Blow,
David Axelrod,
a-ha,
Deakin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Beau Brummels,
Jerry's Kids,
Smog,
Procol Harum,
The Walker Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.