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 Turkmenistan and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 MDC 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Sällskapet,
Moss Icon,
Au Pairs,
Soulsonic Force,
Scratch Acid,
Dead Boys,
Arcadia,
Unwound,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fuzztones,
David Bowie,
Man Parrish,
X-101,
Tres Demented,
Talk Talk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric Dolphy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Von Mondo,
Max Romeo,
Loose Ends,
Hot Snakes,
Amazonics,
Black Moon,
Bronski Beat,
The Birthday Party,
Alphaville,
In Retrospect,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Index,
MDC,
Graham Central Station,
Nico,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
Negative Approach,
Wasted Youth,
Quando Quango,
Isaac Hayes,
Panda Bear,
The Cramps,
Barry Ungar,
Y Pants,
Sister Nancy,
Amon Düül II,
Dennis Brown,
Kool Moe Dee,
Agent Orange,
Shoche,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Remains,
Black Flag,
The Gun Club,
The Electric Prunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Magma,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.