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 Tanzania and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Residents,
Flamin' Groovies,
Yaz,
The Searchers,
Susan Cadogan,
Reuben Wilson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jimmy McGriff,
10cc,
Brick,
The Remains,
DJ Style,
Terry Callier,
The Standells,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sixth Finger,
Lakeside,
Steve Hackett,
La Düsseldorf,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Wyatt,
the Association,
Lou Reed,
The United States of America,
Main Source,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Suicide,
Yusef Lateef,
The Vogues,
Au Pairs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marc Almond,
Judy Mowatt,
Aaron Thompson,
Black Sheep,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lou Christie,
Blake Baxter,
Iggy Pop,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Skriet,
T. Rex,
a-ha,
Mad Mike,
Max Romeo,
Patti Smith,
The Fuzztones,
ABBA,
the Soft Cell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Warren Ellis,
48th St. Collective,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.