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 Andorra and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar 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 Circle Jerks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Motorama,
Rakim,
Arcadia,
Boredoms,
The Standells,
Procol Harum,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Near,
Brothers Johnson,
Marc Almond,
Pylon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
F. McDonald,
Anthony Braxton,
Mary Jane Girls,
Alice Coltrane,
EPMD,
Moss Icon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Soft Cell,
Cameo,
June Days,
Parry Music,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lightning Bolt,
Amazonics,
The Victims,
Pet Shop Boys,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Unwound,
Barbara Tucker,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
Bush Tetras,
the Normal,
Subhumans,
Joy Division,
Roy Ayers,
La Düsseldorf,
Chrome,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soulsonic Force,
The Tremeloes,
Ken Boothe,
Model 500,
Surgeon,
Alphaville,
The Trojans,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.