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 Namibia 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Count Five to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Scratch Acid,
F. McDonald,
Pussy Galore,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Bronski Beat,
The Stooges,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Lynne,
Cybotron,
The Slackers,
the Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Neil Young,
Royal Trux,
The United States of America,
Chris Corsano,
James White and The Blacks,
Slave,
Interpol,
One Last Wish,
Angry Samoans,
The Busters,
Ituana,
Icehouse,
Funky Four + One,
kango's stein massive,
Shuggie Otis,
John Foxx,
Sight & Sound,
Nirvana,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Section 25,
Porter Ricks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Laurel Aitken,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Cowsills,
Rakim,
Janne Schatter,
The Slits,
Can,
Archie Shepp,
The New Christs,
Ossler,
The Electric Prunes,
Hardrive,
Stereo Dub,
Letta Mbulu,
Suburban Knight,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Howard Jones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eve St. Jones,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Wyatt,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mojo Men,
The Beau Brummels,
Magma,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.