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 Cape Verde and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 David Bowie 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 Barclay James Harvest to the crunk 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Gong,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scratch Acid,
Letta Mbulu,
Vainqueur,
Kayak,
The Kinks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dirtbombs,
The Barracudas,
Echospace,
Moss Icon,
Siglo XX,
Q and Not U,
Gang of Four,
The Doobie Brothers,
Quantec,
La Düsseldorf,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ponytail,
Boredoms,
Soul Sonic Force,
U.S. Maple,
Black Bananas,
Ohio Players,
Masters at Work,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brick,
Sixth Finger,
Kerri Chandler,
Silicon Teens,
New York Dolls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Adolescents,
Urselle,
Mark Hollis,
the Germs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Laurel Aitken,
One Last Wish,
The Slits,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pet Shop Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Bush Tetras,
Faust,
Severed Heads,
Kerrie Biddell,
Porter Ricks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arab on Radar,
Sonic Youth,
June of 44,
The Birthday Party,
Goldenarms,
Robert Wyatt,
The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five, The Count Five.
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.