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 Hungary and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Michael McDonald 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the crunk 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
David McCallum,
The Mummies,
Cybotron,
Harry Pussy,
Agitation Free,
Aloha Tigers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joyce Sims,
Crooked Eye,
Tim Buckley,
Grey Daturas,
The Mojo Men,
Warren Ellis,
Connie Case,
DJ Sneak,
Heaven 17,
The Searchers,
Byron Stingily,
Thompson Twins,
The Pretty Things,
Ultravox,
Erykah Badu,
Wally Richardson,
Aural Exciters,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
EPMD,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June Days,
Scientists,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Knickerbockers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lou Christie,
Kaleidoscope,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Reagan Youth,
Eli Mardock,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott Heron,
AZ,
Avey Tare,
Radiohead,
The Golliwogs,
The Move,
The Residents,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Gap Band,
Marc Almond,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Fuzztones,
The Cowsills,
Anakelly,
The Smoke,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.