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 Bhutan and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Sarah Menescal,
Lower 48,
Ultravox,
Jeff Lynne,
Depeche Mode,
Camberwell Now,
Trumans Water,
Marcia Griffiths,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Circle Jerks,
The Monochrome Set,
Jawbox,
The New Christs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Quadrant,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
Spandau Ballet,
John Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
R.M.O.,
Dawn Penn,
Eurythmics,
Echospace,
Brass Construction,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wally Richardson,
Stiv Bators,
The Kinks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ken Boothe,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Todd Rundgren,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joe Finger,
Ludus,
the Sonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cheater Slicks,
Nirvana,
Terry Callier,
Bronski Beat,
The Litter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Robert Görl,
The Blues Magoos,
Althea and Donna,
David McCallum,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Human League,
Kayak,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.