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 Micronesia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sixth Finger,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DNA,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Leaves,
The Neon Judgement,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Steve Hackett,
Jeru the Damaja,
Byron Stingily,
Shuggie Otis,
Yusef Lateef,
Vladislav Delay,
Erykah Badu,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Crooked Eye,
Sugar Minott,
Black Pus,
The Saints,
Minutemen,
Gang Green,
Magazine,
The Cramps,
Moebius,
Camberwell Now,
Susan Cadogan,
Procol Harum,
Glenn Branca,
Stereo Dub,
Black Moon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lindisfarne,
Popol Vuh,
Tears for Fears,
Henry Cow,
Masters at Work,
Severed Heads,
Stetsasonic,
Intrusion,
Chris Corsano,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Funkadelic,
Nik Kershaw,
Ituana,
Marc Almond,
Davy DMX,
The Real Kids,
Brick,
Alice Coltrane,
Absolute Body Control,
Wolf Eyes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Duran Duran,
Laurel Aitken,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.