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 Algeria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 David Bowie 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 Slick Rick to the crunk 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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Lungfish,
Cluster,
Symarip,
the Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bootsy Collins,
The Misunderstood,
The Busters,
Ossler,
Magazine,
PIL,
The Modern Lovers,
Supertramp,
The Fugs,
The Monochrome Set,
Cheater Slicks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Visage,
Depeche Mode,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Suburban Knight,
Zapp,
Eric Copeland,
Section 25,
Barrington Levy,
Dual Sessions,
Hoover,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-101,
Carl Craig,
Althea and Donna,
the Germs,
The Remains,
K-Klass,
Albert Ayler,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Electric Prunes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brass Construction,
Patti Smith,
Kurtis Blow,
The Black Dice,
Neil Young,
The Motions,
The Tremeloes,
The Techniques,
Black Pus,
The Zeros,
Babytalk,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lebanon Hanover,
Thompson Twins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jesper Dahlback,
Spoonie Gee,
Susan Cadogan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terry Callier,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.