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 Suriname and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Pagans to the techno 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lucky Dragons,
Joe Finger,
Interpol,
Pagans,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marine Girls,
Ludus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Johnny Clarke,
Kas Product,
Junior Murvin,
Model 500,
Althea and Donna,
CMW,
Mandrill,
Jacob Miller,
Jeff Lynne,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Cale,
MDC,
Porter Ricks,
Arcadia,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marmalade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bill Wells,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Masters at Work,
Urselle,
The Pop Group,
Icehouse,
Arab on Radar,
Pharoah Sanders,
Aswad,
Saccharine Trust,
Wings,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fuzztones,
DJ Sneak,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Matthew Halsall,
Simply Red,
Minor Threat,
Malaria!,
The Moody Blues,
kango's stein massive,
Tommy Roe,
Clear Light,
Roxette,
Sällskapet,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.