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 Gambia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Modern Lovers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Stiv Bators,
Country Teasers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Grass Roots,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Görl,
Mark Hollis,
Urselle,
Warren Ellis,
The Modern Lovers,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Flag,
Derrick May,
Prince Buster,
The Seeds,
Sight & Sound,
Flipper,
Fluxion,
Aloha Tigers,
Sällskapet,
Con Funk Shun,
Youth Brigade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Real Kids,
Sixth Finger,
X-101,
Deepchord,
Au Pairs,
The Index,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amazonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gladiators,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Newcleus,
Mr. Review,
Babytalk,
the Sonics,
Los Fastidios,
Tom Boy,
Archie Shepp,
Television,
The Gories,
Gang of Four,
Scan 7,
Skriet,
Brand Nubian,
Swans,
Iggy Pop,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Shuggie Otis,
Alison Limerick,
Johnny Clarke,
Spoonie Gee,
Fela Kuti,
Reuben Wilson,
Alphaville,
MDC,
Bill Near,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.