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 Russia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare 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 The Red Krayola to the grunge 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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
The Cure,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Last Poets,
Altered Images,
Echospace,
Yaz,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bad Manners,
Dawn Penn,
Eli Mardock,
Harmonia,
Charles Mingus,
Audionom,
La Düsseldorf,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joey Negro,
Minny Pops,
Grauzone,
Scientists,
The Red Krayola,
Black Pus,
Aural Exciters,
Warsaw,
Jandek,
Gastr Del Sol,
Man Parrish,
The Neon Judgement,
the Swans,
The Barracudas,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tears for Fears,
Angry Samoans,
Von Mondo,
Cecil Taylor,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wally Richardson,
The Electric Prunes,
Magazine,
Fugazi,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Victims,
The Offenders,
Whodini,
Mandrill,
Livin' Joy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Little Man,
Darondo,
Crime,
Electric Prunes,
Intrusion,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Animal Collective,
Ken Boothe,
The Toasters,
Funkadelic,
Pagans,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.