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 Maldives and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Alphaville to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Nico,
Mary Jane Girls,
Donald Byrd,
Desert Stars,
The Pop Group,
Wire,
The Golliwogs,
The Zeros,
Stereo Dub,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sister Nancy,
X-Ray Spex,
Altered Images,
Goldenarms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Darondo,
Gang of Four,
Pussy Galore,
Massinfluence,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Soft Cell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Symarip,
the Human League,
Lungfish,
Supertramp,
David McCallum,
Index,
Essential Logic,
Godley & Creme,
KRS-One,
The Gories,
The Monks,
Mars,
Derrick Morgan,
Crime,
Skaos,
the Germs,
Interpol,
Tears for Fears,
Heaven 17,
The Cowsills,
Cameo,
DJ Style,
Eric Dolphy,
Rakim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nils Olav,
Oblivians,
The Busters,
Aaron Thompson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bob Dylan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Schoolly D,
The Durutti Column,
Fear,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.