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 Burkina and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 Thee Headcoats to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Funky Four + One,
John Foxx,
Neu!,
Yaz,
Sister Nancy,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
the Sonics,
Blancmange,
Can,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pussy Galore,
The Residents,
DJ Style,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
Scion,
Dave Gahan,
The Angels of Light,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slits,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joe Finger,
Siglo XX,
Hoover,
The Slackers,
Vladislav Delay,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yazoo,
Harpers Bizarre,
D'Angelo,
Ponytail,
The Fall,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pole,
Cheater Slicks,
Animal Collective,
MDC,
Stetsasonic,
Suburban Knight,
The Martian,
The Move,
Country Teasers,
Quantec,
Aaron Thompson,
Nas,
Brothers Johnson,
Anthony Braxton,
Magazine,
Pere Ubu,
The Doors,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang of Four,
K-Klass,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
CMW,
This Heat,
Minnie Riperton,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.