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 Andorra and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Flamin' Groovies to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erykah Badu,
The Angels of Light,
Scientists,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Moody Blues,
Lakeside,
Kayak,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sound Behaviour,
Flipper,
Livin' Joy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Inner City,
A Certain Ratio,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Drive Like Jehu,
ABBA,
Laurel Aitken,
Lou Reed,
Ronan,
Soft Cell,
Aural Exciters,
Grey Daturas,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Görl,
The United States of America,
Fear,
Stiv Bators,
Pantytec,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ornette Coleman,
Roy Ayers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mars,
Moss Icon,
Isaac Hayes,
Kurtis Blow,
the Association,
Blancmange,
Agitation Free,
The Gap Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jeff Mills,
The Tremeloes,
Ohio Players,
The Selecter,
Reuben Wilson,
Kaleidoscope,
Barbara Tucker,
China Crisis,
Qualms,
Bobby Sherman,
Matthew Bourne,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.