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 Lebanon and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Liliput to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radiohead,
Ituana,
John Lydon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Organ,
Motorama,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gong,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Swans,
Moby Grape,
Grauzone,
Sister Nancy,
Pagans,
K-Klass,
Michelle Simonal,
Japan,
The United States of America,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zero Boys,
Fluxion,
X-Ray Spex,
Traffic Nightmare,
Depeche Mode,
Hoover,
Minor Threat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Graham Central Station,
James White and The Blacks,
Livin' Joy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masters at Work,
Fat Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Eurythmics,
The Knickerbockers,
Hashim,
Radio Birdman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cameo,
Erasure,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Womack,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fad Gadget,
Popol Vuh,
Malaria!,
David McCallum,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
T. Rex,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quadrant,
Basic Channel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Porter Ricks,
Thompson Twins,
The Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Warsaw,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.