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 Malaysia and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kas Product to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Pere Ubu,
MC5,
Ice-T,
Make Up,
The Buckinghams,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tim Buckley,
Yazoo,
Circle Jerks,
the Sonics,
Rakim,
Index,
Black Moon,
Bang On A Can,
Minutemen,
Half Japanese,
Ponytail,
The Cramps,
The Birthday Party,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faraquet,
FM Einheit,
Khruangbin,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deakin,
UT,
The Golliwogs,
Boz Scaggs,
Sugar Minott,
T. Rex,
The Beau Brummels,
the Slits,
Maleditus Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Starr,
Black Sheep,
Goldenarms,
The Searchers,
Sparks,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Soft Cell,
Pole,
Stetsasonic,
John Coltrane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Carl Craig,
Andrew Hill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Slits,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
JFA,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fear,
Chris Corsano,
The Kinks,
Hot Snakes,
Zero Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.