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 Cambodia and from Philadelphia.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Simply Red to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
The Birthday Party,
Eden Ahbez,
Babytalk,
The Gladiators,
Television,
Dark Day,
Inner City,
UT,
Slick Rick,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tommy Roe,
La Düsseldorf,
Mandrill,
Marshall Jefferson,
K-Klass,
Lalo Schifrin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fire Engines,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
MDC,
Pylon,
The Toasters,
The Barracudas,
Duran Duran,
The Gories,
Los Fastidios,
Cameo,
Make Up,
The Happenings,
Gabor Szabo,
Severed Heads,
Deepchord,
T.S.O.L.,
The United States of America,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Connie Case,
Arab on Radar,
ABBA,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bang On A Can,
Nation of Ulysses,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Shoche,
Suburban Knight,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Maurizio,
Bush Tetras,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Slackers,
Sun City Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vladislav Delay,
Lightning Bolt,
Yellowson,
D'Angelo,
Blossom Toes,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.