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 Papua New Guinea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 Yazoo to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Barracudas,
Warsaw,
Nas,
Scan 7,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lower 48,
The Angels of Light,
LL Cool J,
T. Rex,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
Lyres,
Judy Mowatt,
Scratch Acid,
Howard Jones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rekid,
Vainqueur,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Monks,
Heaven 17,
The Blues Magoos,
Sonic Youth,
Flipper,
Black Moon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kerri Chandler,
The Raincoats,
X-101,
Brand Nubian,
The Smiths,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Yazoo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sight & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Hardrive,
Magazine,
The Standells,
Wings,
Oneida,
The Dead C,
L. Decosne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Althea and Donna,
Motorama,
Chris & Cosey,
Bob Dylan,
Little Man,
The Residents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minutemen,
Deepchord,
The Index,
Chrome,
The Sound,
the Sonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.