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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Monks to the electroclash 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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeff Mills,
Tom Boy,
Crash Course in Science,
kango's stein massive,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Altered Images,
the Fania All-Stars,
Desert Stars,
Index,
the Swans,
Slave,
Rekid,
Amazonics,
Black Flag,
Connie Case,
Scrapy,
Tears for Fears,
Zero Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moody Blues,
Bob Dylan,
Wolf Eyes,
Trumans Water,
Hasil Adkins,
The Dirtbombs,
Andrew Hill,
Jacob Miller,
Sex Pistols,
X-101,
Black Bananas,
Eric Dolphy,
Stetsasonic,
Chris Corsano,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Knickerbockers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
Matthew Halsall,
Scion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Country Teasers,
L. Decosne,
The Pop Group,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Aural Exciters,
Oneida,
Oblivians,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harmonia,
Fela Kuti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
John Coltrane,
Urselle,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Pretty Things,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.