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 Costa Rica and from Lagos.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator 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 Henry Cow to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Black Sheep,
Barbara Tucker,
Ituana,
Judy Mowatt,
Jawbox,
Reagan Youth,
Alison Limerick,
The Knickerbockers,
The Blackbyrds,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Charles Mingus,
Royal Trux,
Fela Kuti,
Black Bananas,
Ohio Players,
Lightning Bolt,
Vladislav Delay,
Little Man,
Whodini,
Lou Reed,
Deadbeat,
The Moody Blues,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-Ray Spex,
Severed Heads,
The Dirtbombs,
Simply Red,
B.T. Express,
Boredoms,
Minutemen,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lyres,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Sneak,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gap Band,
The United States of America,
Bob Dylan,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Erasure,
Rhythm & Sound,
Warren Ellis,
Radiohead,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cymande,
Symarip,
John Cale,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Faust,
ABC,
Kaleidoscope,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kurtis Blow,
The Black Dice,
Magma,
Blossom Toes,
Shoche,
Junior Murvin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hashim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.