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 Lesotho and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Bananas to the electroclash 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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Deepchord,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hashim,
F. McDonald,
Blake Baxter,
Pantytec,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Second Layer,
DNA,
CMW,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Saints,
Bluetip,
The American Breed,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fire Engines,
Black Flag,
Aural Exciters,
B.T. Express,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mad Mike,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Visage,
Drexciya,
Gastr Del Sol,
Groovy Waters,
Clear Light,
The Associates,
Symarip,
The Standells,
Hardrive,
Bronski Beat,
Banda Bassotti,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Soulsonic Force,
10cc,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Intrusion,
Chris & Cosey,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
Mission of Burma,
Franke,
Heaven 17,
Bill Wells,
Parry Music,
Theoretical Girls,
Warsaw,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
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.