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 Guatemala and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes 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 oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Erasure,
Davy DMX,
These Immortal Souls,
the Normal,
The Remains,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Connie Case,
Dark Day,
Joy Division,
Kayak,
Susan Cadogan,
the Slits,
Carl Craig,
Magazine,
The Golliwogs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brothers Johnson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Masters at Work,
Agent Orange,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gong,
Grey Daturas,
Suburban Knight,
The Pop Group,
The Red Krayola,
Black Flag,
MDC,
The Fire Engines,
The Fortunes,
Vladislav Delay,
Oneida,
The Angels of Light,
Saccharine Trust,
Cybotron,
John Holt,
Maurizio,
DNA,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Angry Samoans,
Scan 7,
Ohio Players,
Neil Young,
Infiniti,
Janne Schatter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lyres,
Organ,
Delta 5,
Kerri Chandler,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Donald Byrd,
Circle Jerks,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Smiths,
Underground Resistance,
Eric Dolphy,
Jawbox,
Rapeman,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.