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 Iraq and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Scion to the rock 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
The Remains,
Rapeman,
Pierre Henry,
The Fall,
The Fortunes,
Stereo Dub,
The Five Americans,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Human League,
The Moleskins,
Jawbox,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Raincoats,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Banda Bassotti,
Aloha Tigers,
Agent Orange,
E-Dancer,
Bang On A Can,
Fela Kuti,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Black Dice,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Star Department,
Leonard Cohen,
AZ,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cal Tjader,
Dark Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Mad Mike,
Easy Going,
John Coltrane,
Davy DMX,
Sight & Sound,
Yellowson,
June Days,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Drexciya,
The Searchers,
Rites of Spring,
Fear,
Thee Headcoats,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mandrill,
Alison Limerick,
Loose Ends,
Absolute Body Control,
The Modern Lovers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scientists,
In Retrospect,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cowsills,
Sixth Finger,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.