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 Micronesia and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 theremin 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 Supertramp to the punk 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Slick Rick,
The Leaves,
Nik Kershaw,
Maurizio,
Ken Boothe,
Prince Buster,
Michelle Simonal,
Throbbing Gristle,
Y Pants,
Scientists,
John Holt,
Amazonics,
Neu!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mr. Review,
The Dead C,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lightning Bolt,
Loose Ends,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eve St. Jones,
Camouflage,
Mandrill,
K-Klass,
Sister Nancy,
Liliput,
Average White Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Newcleus,
Flash Fearless,
Delta 5,
Tres Demented,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tomorrow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mummies,
Mantronix,
Godley & Creme,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Red Krayola,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Model 500,
The Angels of Light,
The United States of America,
Max Romeo,
a-ha,
Depeche Mode,
Fela Kuti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Youth Brigade,
Bad Manners,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
New York Dolls,
F. McDonald,
The Doors,
Hasil Adkins,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.