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 Brunei and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Thompson Twins to the crunk 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Icehouse,
a-ha,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Alton Ellis,
Rapeman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chrome,
Glenn Branca,
Yaz,
Dark Day,
Janne Schatter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Görl,
CMW,
Oneida,
Ultravox,
Isaac Hayes,
The Monochrome Set,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Funky Four + One,
AZ,
Robert Hood,
Von Mondo,
Das Ding,
ABBA,
Nirvana,
Inner City,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Flag,
John Cale,
Outsiders,
Altered Images,
Slave,
DNA,
Groovy Waters,
Angry Samoans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
World's Most,
Whodini,
Godley & Creme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Depeche Mode,
Todd Rundgren,
Supertramp,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pulsallama,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ken Boothe,
Easy Going,
Cecil Taylor,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.