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 San Marino and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 linndrum 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kas Product,
FM Einheit,
Television Personalities,
The Neon Judgement,
Agent Orange,
The Last Poets,
Alphaville,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Smoke,
a-ha,
The Moleskins,
Slick Rick,
The Vogues,
Lalann,
June Days,
Procol Harum,
Massinfluence,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
8 Eyed Spy,
PIL,
Pagans,
Tim Buckley,
X-101,
Barclay James Harvest,
Magazine,
Camberwell Now,
Glenn Branca,
Grey Daturas,
The Raincoats,
The Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Stooges,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vladislav Delay,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Delon & Dalcan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Q and Not U,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Christie,
The Wake,
Scott Walker,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Cale,
Joe Smooth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lakeside,
Banda Bassotti,
Ten City,
Andrew Hill,
kango's stein massive,
The Music Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
Circle Jerks,
Amazonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Byrd,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.