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 Austria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe 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 Wasted Youth to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
The Leaves,
The Pretty Things,
The Black Dice,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Wells,
Johnny Clarke,
The Martian,
Panda Bear,
The Blackbyrds,
This Heat,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yazoo,
Mark Hollis,
Maurizio,
The Dead C,
the Association,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
R.M.O.,
Amazonics,
Excepter,
The Move,
Barbara Tucker,
Ornette Coleman,
Basic Channel,
Dual Sessions,
The Moleskins,
Franke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
CMW,
The Red Krayola,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Todd Rundgren,
Gong,
Suicide,
Jimmy McGriff,
Thee Headcoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Q65,
Albert Ayler,
Index,
Country Teasers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Easy Going,
Vladislav Delay,
Anakelly,
Subhumans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Soft Cell,
The Index,
Jacques Brel,
Japan,
Ronnie Foster,
Wire,
Swell Maps,
The Toasters,
Jerry's Kids,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.