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 Indonesia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Derrick Morgan to the techno 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Sonics,
Mr. Review,
Hashim,
Moby Grape,
Jandek,
New York Dolls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The J.B.'s,
Pussy Galore,
K-Klass,
Jacob Miller,
Procol Harum,
Neil Young,
Minnie Riperton,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kaleidoscope,
the Normal,
Massinfluence,
Ronan,
Gong,
The Smiths,
Sixth Finger,
The Young Rascals,
The Litter,
Byron Stingily,
Prince Buster,
Pierre Henry,
Average White Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Outsiders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
This Heat,
China Crisis,
The Slits,
Swell Maps,
Depeche Mode,
Accadde A,
Skaos,
The Zeros,
Scott Walker,
AZ,
Bronski Beat,
Henry Cow,
Bluetip,
Lindisfarne,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Smoke,
Lakeside,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Soft Cell,
Crash Course in Science,
The Divine Comedy,
One Last Wish,
The Gladiators,
The Blues Magoos,
Donald Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
Technova,
MDC,
D'Angelo,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.