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 United Kingdom and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar 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 The Index to the crunk 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Crime,
Funkadelic,
Aswad,
The Star Department,
Fear,
Wally Richardson,
Fat Boys,
Gang of Four,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
Rekid,
Siglo XX,
Trumans Water,
Los Fastidios,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Residents,
Jeff Lynne,
Kevin Saunderson,
Neu!,
Vainqueur,
Howard Jones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
UT,
Susan Cadogan,
U.S. Maple,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Franke,
The Doors,
Public Enemy,
Qualms,
The Saints,
Chris & Cosey,
Juan Atkins,
Bad Manners,
Q65,
The Tremeloes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cramps,
Sarah Menescal,
Make Up,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Faust,
Blancmange,
Delta 5,
Basic Channel,
Kas Product,
Eden Ahbez,
Idris Muhammad,
Sam Rivers,
Guru Guru,
Massinfluence,
Lyres,
Masters at Work,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Porter Ricks,
Scion,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.