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 Mauritius and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 Urselle to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Barrington Levy,
The Last Poets,
World's Most,
a-ha,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gladiators,
Ituana,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skriet,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Starr,
Lightning Bolt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Golliwogs,
Ornette Coleman,
U.S. Maple,
Derrick Morgan,
Idris Muhammad,
ABC,
Radiohead,
Infiniti,
John Holt,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Slick Rick,
David McCallum,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Green,
The Kinks,
Mantronix,
F. McDonald,
LL Cool J,
Sugar Minott,
Loose Ends,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crash Course in Science,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cure,
Mad Mike,
Kurtis Blow,
Duran Duran,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Five Americans,
The Beau Brummels,
Gregory Isaacs,
DJ Style,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Althea and Donna,
Patti Smith,
Ken Boothe,
Los Fastidios,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.