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 Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 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 Prince Buster 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
June Days,
Sällskapet,
Deepchord,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Japan,
The Gap Band,
Roy Ayers,
The Selecter,
T. Rex,
Lou Reed,
Quadrant,
Rites of Spring,
John Cale,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Cure,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Victims,
Chris Corsano,
The Sound,
Desert Stars,
KRS-One,
The Angels of Light,
Schoolly D,
Soft Machine,
Max Romeo,
Pussy Galore,
The Moody Blues,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stetsasonic,
Pole,
Circle Jerks,
Supertramp,
Darondo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arcadia,
In Retrospect,
FM Einheit,
Black Flag,
Joe Smooth,
The Slackers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Beau Brummels,
Yellowson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blackbyrds,
the Swans,
OOIOO,
Sam Rivers,
The Modern Lovers,
Oneida,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cybotron,
Juan Atkins,
the Association,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Boz Scaggs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barry Ungar,
Tropical Tobacco,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.