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 Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Lou Reed 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 Silicon Teens to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Alice Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Litter,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Todd Terry,
F. McDonald,
Sällskapet,
Basic Channel,
Hot Snakes,
Porter Ricks,
Nirvana,
John Lydon,
The Smiths,
The Last Poets,
Infiniti,
Desert Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Parrish,
The Real Kids,
Fat Boys,
Malaria!,
Cameo,
Smog,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mummies,
Pantytec,
the Swans,
World's Most,
Blake Baxter,
the Normal,
Brothers Johnson,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Seeds,
Colin Newman,
Flipper,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Residents,
Ralphi Rosario,
Little Man,
Godley & Creme,
Matthew Bourne,
R.M.O.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ituana,
Derrick May,
Robert Hood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Depeche Mode,
Marmalade,
The Standells,
Alphaville,
Robert Wyatt,
Eric Copeland,
Sixth Finger,
Rufus Thomas,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.