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 Mexico and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Juan Atkins to the grunge 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
AZ,
Rufus Thomas,
The Fortunes,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Shadows of Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sex Pistols,
Avey Tare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Von Mondo,
Arcadia,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tom Boy,
Supertramp,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David Axelrod,
Rites of Spring,
Rapeman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gang Gang Dance,
Oneida,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fugs,
Rod Modell,
Todd Terry,
Outsiders,
OOIOO,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suicide,
Smog,
Junior Murvin,
ABBA,
Lindisfarne,
Lalann,
Alton Ellis,
LL Cool J,
Todd Rundgren,
Flash Fearless,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crime,
Susan Cadogan,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Index,
Marmalade,
The Motions,
Robert Hood,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
The American Breed,
Jeff Lynne,
L. Decosne,
Bill Wells,
The Durutti Column,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joensuu 1685,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.