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 Turkmenistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord 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 Mo-Dettes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Hoover,
Inner City,
June Days,
The Happenings,
Public Enemy,
Man Parrish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Josef K,
Scan 7,
Tomorrow,
D'Angelo,
The Zeros,
Fugazi,
Dorothy Ashby,
Television,
The Leaves,
The Blues Magoos,
Babytalk,
Connie Case,
Scott Walker,
The Barracudas,
48th St. Collective,
Sonic Youth,
Section 25,
DJ Style,
Malaria!,
The Mummies,
Warsaw,
Bauhaus,
Fluxion,
Angry Samoans,
Marine Girls,
Index,
The Star Department,
Urselle,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Erasure,
Flipper,
Bobby Womack,
Half Japanese,
Tim Buckley,
Porter Ricks,
Reagan Youth,
Moby Grape,
Thompson Twins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hardrive,
Newcleus,
F. McDonald,
La Düsseldorf,
Tubeway Army,
Sun City Girls,
Y Pants,
Arthur Verocai,
Tears for Fears,
Average White Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flash Fearless,
X-102,
Das Ding,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.