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 Costa Rica and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Byrd to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a sitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
The Busters,
Spandau Ballet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Laurel Aitken,
Marine Girls,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nik Kershaw,
The Blackbyrds,
Bang On A Can,
Mark Hollis,
Sällskapet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Depeche Mode,
The Residents,
The Dirtbombs,
the Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
CMW,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Wyatt,
Minutemen,
Rotary Connection,
Funky Four + One,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rites of Spring,
Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Liliput,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Mills,
Radio Birdman,
Max Romeo,
Von Mondo,
Alison Limerick,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mission of Burma,
Agitation Free,
Jawbox,
Simply Red,
Skarface,
Massinfluence,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Junior Murvin,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Zero Boys,
Oblivians,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Slave,
The Invisible,
Niagra,
Livin' Joy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Barracudas,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Howard Jones,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.