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 Denmark and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba 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 The Offenders to the disco 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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Johnny Clarke,
Howard Jones,
Aural Exciters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Gories,
Roxy Music,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alison Limerick,
One Last Wish,
Oneida,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Misunderstood,
Moby Grape,
Carl Craig,
The Human League,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Smiths,
Scratch Acid,
Bob Dylan,
The Invisible,
Tomorrow,
Hot Snakes,
OOIOO,
Marvin Gaye,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Main Source,
Shoche,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harmonia,
Girls At Our Best!,
Drive Like Jehu,
Index,
Heaven 17,
Con Funk Shun,
The New Christs,
Circle Jerks,
Young Marble Giants,
Franke,
Television,
Unwound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dawn Penn,
Maurizio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mr. Review,
The Red Krayola,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Bananas,
John Foxx,
The Remains,
Marc Almond,
Icehouse,
Slave,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Residents,
Youth Brigade,
Talk Talk,
Yellowson,
Eric B and Rakim,
kango's stein massive,
The Slits,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.