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 Romania and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Morten Harket to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
the Normal,
Delon & Dalcan,
Iggy Pop,
Throbbing Gristle,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Fall,
Lou Reed,
Livin' Joy,
Anakelly,
Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Derrick May,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Albert Ayler,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bang On A Can,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brass Construction,
Cal Tjader,
Hot Snakes,
Yazoo,
Technova,
Little Man,
Harry Pussy,
Thee Headcoats,
Quando Quango,
Minutemen,
Black Sheep,
Slave,
Judy Mowatt,
Fluxion,
EPMD,
David McCallum,
Joyce Sims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Porter Ricks,
Warsaw,
Cymande,
Jacob Miller,
Amon Düül,
Accadde A,
The Barracudas,
The Invisible,
L. Decosne,
The Blues Magoos,
Freddie Wadling,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Schoolly D,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Talk Talk,
Shoche,
Section 25,
Black Moon,
The Evens,
The Stooges,
Echospace,
Silicon Teens,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.