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 Cyprus and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tim Buckley to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Count Five,
MDC,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Skatalites,
H. Thieme,
Wire,
Johnny Clarke,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Morten Harket,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Oneida,
John Coltrane,
Gabor Szabo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Slick Rick,
The Moody Blues,
Lungfish,
cv313,
Moebius,
Michelle Simonal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Intrusion,
D'Angelo,
Wasted Youth,
The Saints,
Adolescents,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Aswad,
The Beau Brummels,
Kas Product,
Camouflage,
Hasil Adkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Albert Ayler,
Connie Case,
Liliput,
Crispy Ambulance,
Byron Stingily,
Niagra,
Kurtis Blow,
Gichy Dan,
Buzzcocks,
Wolf Eyes,
Rotary Connection,
The Litter,
The Fuzztones,
Lalann,
Interpol,
Brand Nubian,
Blancmange,
James White and The Blacks,
Tomorrow,
Sound Behaviour,
The Dirtbombs,
Ohio Players,
The Gories,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.