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 Hungary and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
The Dirtbombs,
Quantec,
The Zeros,
Michelle Simonal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
Infiniti,
The Associates,
Skarface,
The Busters,
Kerri Chandler,
Ituana,
Joy Division,
Faraquet,
Stetsasonic,
the Normal,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Kinks,
Marc Almond,
Groovy Waters,
Idris Muhammad,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
Brick,
Bizarre Inc.,
Siglo XX,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Byron Stingily,
Section 25,
Porter Ricks,
Ultra Naté,
Visage,
Tom Boy,
Mr. Review,
Los Fastidios,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rotary Connection,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nick Fraelich,
The Red Krayola,
Todd Terry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Invisible,
Dorothy Ashby,
Adolescents,
Audionom,
Kerrie Biddell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Warsaw,
One Last Wish,
The Gun Club,
The Names,
The Black Dice,
Gong,
Amon Düül,
MC5,
Roy Ayers,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.