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 Georgia and from New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Black Sheep to the funk 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
Fela Kuti,
The Barracudas,
Eric Copeland,
Ituana,
Bronski Beat,
DJ Sneak,
Ronan,
Quadrant,
X-Ray Spex,
Ken Boothe,
Morten Harket,
Juan Atkins,
Das Ding,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gories,
Robert Görl,
Nas,
the Bar-Kays,
Cameo,
Arab on Radar,
Crispy Ambulance,
ABBA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Walker Brothers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Suburban Knight,
Mark Hollis,
Ossler,
Soft Cell,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Pus,
Kas Product,
Skriet,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joey Negro,
Wally Richardson,
Sexual Harrassment,
R.M.O.,
The Selecter,
Second Layer,
H. Thieme,
Joe Finger,
The Divine Comedy,
Symarip,
Oblivians,
Bluetip,
London Community Gospel Choir,
U.S. Maple,
Underground Resistance,
Siglo XX,
LL Cool J,
Marine Girls,
Mr. Review,
Lakeside,
Royal Trux,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.