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 China and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the snare 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 The Cure to the techno 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
The Fuzztones,
The Last Poets,
Vainqueur,
Brand Nubian,
Severed Heads,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nirvana,
In Retrospect,
The Misunderstood,
Gang Green,
The Kinks,
The Human League,
Scrapy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lindisfarne,
Arthur Verocai,
Soft Machine,
FM Einheit,
Fatback Band,
10cc,
Moebius,
Bang On A Can,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fad Gadget,
Pantytec,
Todd Terry,
Agitation Free,
Arcadia,
The Gun Club,
Mission of Burma,
The Dave Clark Five,
Godley & Creme,
Colin Newman,
The Zeros,
Eli Mardock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Animal Collective,
Arab on Radar,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Five Americans,
Moss Icon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nils Olav,
The Shadows of Knight,
China Crisis,
Ultravox,
Ice-T,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Byrd,
Half Japanese,
Fugazi,
Cluster,
Rosa Yemen,
Todd Rundgren,
Flash Fearless,
Sister Nancy,
H. Thieme,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.