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 Lithuania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 One Last Wish to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Qualms,
Popol Vuh,
Oneida,
Little Man,
Unrelated Segments,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Bowie,
Tres Demented,
T.S.O.L.,
World's Most,
Joensuu 1685,
Hardrive,
John Cale,
Second Layer,
Minutemen,
kango's stein massive,
UT,
Warren Ellis,
Henry Cow,
Adolescents,
Depeche Mode,
John Coltrane,
Alphaville,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Zero Boys,
The Slackers,
Scott Walker,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Names,
The Smiths,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Pretty Things,
Los Fastidios,
Stetsasonic,
Barry Ungar,
The Gories,
Neu!,
Index,
Siglo XX,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Thee Headcoats,
Technova,
Unwound,
The Offenders,
LL Cool J,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cecil Taylor,
The Motions,
Oblivians,
Grandmaster Flash,
Suicide,
DJ Sneak,
Essential Logic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bush Tetras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Thompson Twins,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.