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 Sudan 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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Goldenarms to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Don Cherry,
Faust,
The Last Poets,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tommy Roe,
The Human League,
Magma,
Matthew Halsall,
The Busters,
The Toasters,
Agent Orange,
The Victims,
Blake Baxter,
Patti Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick Morgan,
Scion,
Groovy Waters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alison Limerick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Mojo Men,
The Remains,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Susan Cadogan,
Alton Ellis,
Johnny Osbourne,
Organ,
Magazine,
Isaac Hayes,
Stiv Bators,
Scientists,
The Searchers,
The Martian,
Deepchord,
The Evens,
Gregory Isaacs,
David Bowie,
Qualms,
Fela Kuti,
the Sonics,
Echospace,
The Pop Group,
Eden Ahbez,
The Litter,
Clear Light,
Black Moon,
Model 500,
The Golliwogs,
Infiniti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Malaria!,
Easy Going,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Parry Music,
Eurythmics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mr. Review,
Al Stewart,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.