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 Lesotho and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro 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 Average White Band to the rap 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Make Up,
Laurel Aitken,
Mr. Review,
Andrew Hill,
Steve Hackett,
a-ha,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Blake Baxter,
Colin Newman,
Black Flag,
the Soft Cell,
World's Most,
Goldenarms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ornette Coleman,
The Motions,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultimate Spinach,
H. Thieme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Red Krayola,
Electric Prunes,
Gong,
Thee Headcoats,
Can,
Angry Samoans,
Porter Ricks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
UT,
U.S. Maple,
Smog,
the Bar-Kays,
Junior Murvin,
New Order,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Q and Not U,
Marc Almond,
Aaron Thompson,
Loose Ends,
Pulsallama,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Funkadelic,
Section 25,
The Residents,
Eden Ahbez,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Slackers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
R.M.O.,
The Skatalites,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Reed,
Kenny Larkin,
Minor Threat,
Interpol,
The Moleskins,
Ossler,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.