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 Tajikistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
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 synthesizer 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 The Slackers to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Arthur Verocai,
Interpol,
Erykah Badu,
The United States of America,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kool Moe Dee,
Peter and Kerry,
Roxette,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Birthday Party,
The Skatalites,
David Axelrod,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ken Boothe,
Negative Approach,
The Searchers,
Maurizio,
Tubeway Army,
OOIOO,
Flash Fearless,
Das Ding,
Minutemen,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth,
Dennis Brown,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Faust,
Magma,
The Durutti Column,
Albert Ayler,
Rakim,
Japan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bob Dylan,
Inner City,
Iggy Pop,
The Gories,
Desert Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Flipper,
Mandrill,
Ralphi Rosario,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scion,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
D'Angelo,
Minor Threat,
Audionom,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jacob Miller,
The Last Poets,
New Order,
The Trojans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Skaos,
Gabor Szabo,
Godley & Creme,
The Gun Club,
Rotary Connection,
the Human League,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.