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 Slovakia and from Spokane.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Freddie Wadling,
Brick,
Television Personalities,
Black Moon,
Skaos,
Suburban Knight,
The Busters,
Lower 48,
Moss Icon,
Juan Atkins,
Mantronix,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Porter Ricks,
Stiv Bators,
The Vogues,
ABC,
Jacques Brel,
Tim Buckley,
Agitation Free,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terry Callier,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
In Retrospect,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roxette,
The Five Americans,
Swell Maps,
Jeff Lynne,
Arab on Radar,
The Pop Group,
Smog,
Altered Images,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Detroit Cobras,
F. McDonald,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rod Modell,
June Days,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moby Grape,
Dark Day,
OOIOO,
Ornette Coleman,
Interpol,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rapeman,
Radio Birdman,
Idris Muhammad,
James White and The Blacks,
Alton Ellis,
Excepter,
Kayak,
Popol Vuh,
Michelle Simonal,
Arthur Verocai,
Amon Düül,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quantec,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.