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 Turkey and from Lagos.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 Roxette to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
DJ Style,
Supertramp,
Donald Byrd,
The Index,
Frankie Knuckles,
La Düsseldorf,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Liliput,
Theoretical Girls,
The Monks,
The Fugs,
Marine Girls,
Zero Boys,
Quadrant,
The Beau Brummels,
The Selecter,
Country Teasers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terry Callier,
Matthew Halsall,
Joy Division,
Johnny Clarke,
Rotary Connection,
Duran Duran,
Freddie Wadling,
Harmonia,
Gregory Isaacs,
Echospace,
Television Personalities,
The Gap Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Robert Wyatt,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Neon Judgement,
Lower 48,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Swell Maps,
Malaria!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Loose Ends,
Thompson Twins,
Lakeside,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Spoonie Gee,
Urselle,
Roxette,
DJ Sneak,
Nico,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Happenings,
Glenn Branca,
Das Ding,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
CMW,
Derrick Morgan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rapeman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.