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 Uzbekistan and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Gang Starr to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Dark Day,
Goldenarms,
The Vogues,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang On A Can,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scion,
Masters at Work,
Fugazi,
Rites of Spring,
Junior Murvin,
Camberwell Now,
Vladislav Delay,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Henry Cow,
Byron Stingily,
John Coltrane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bauhaus,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Techniques,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Associates,
Angry Samoans,
Danielle Patucci,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Monochrome Set,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
AZ,
Brothers Johnson,
Rakim,
The American Breed,
Flamin' Groovies,
Albert Ayler,
Don Cherry,
Aloha Tigers,
Slick Rick,
Harmonia,
Roxy Music,
a-ha,
Eric Dolphy,
China Crisis,
Ossler,
Anthony Braxton,
The Moleskins,
The Fugs,
Wire,
Ponytail,
Swell Maps,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Howard Jones,
Cybotron,
Technova,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
F. McDonald,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Index,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.