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 Vietnam and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Von Mondo to the rap 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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Kurtis Blow,
MDC,
Gabor Szabo,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Cecil Taylor,
Supertramp,
Bobby Womack,
Half Japanese,
B.T. Express,
Barclay James Harvest,
Moby Grape,
Todd Terry,
New Order,
Juan Atkins,
Minny Pops,
Sparks,
Fad Gadget,
Aswad,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Little Man,
Swell Maps,
Jeru the Damaja,
Judy Mowatt,
Bronski Beat,
Susan Cadogan,
Monks,
Vainqueur,
DJ Sneak,
June of 44,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sixth Finger,
Oneida,
Terry Callier,
Skriet,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Seeds,
Jesper Dahlback,
Parry Music,
Blossom Toes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Excepter,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-101,
K-Klass,
Black Sheep,
Goldenarms,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Camouflage,
Gregory Isaacs,
T.S.O.L.,
Arab on Radar,
Rites of Spring,
Slick Rick,
Graham Central Station,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.