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 Russia and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Human League to the rock 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
The Red Krayola,
Rakim,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Amon Düül,
Deakin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-101,
Chris & Cosey,
Laurel Aitken,
The Searchers,
Chris Corsano,
John Lydon,
Second Layer,
Lower 48,
Gang Green,
Deadbeat,
The United States of America,
H. Thieme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fortunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blossom Toes,
Boz Scaggs,
The Raincoats,
Ken Boothe,
Can,
Kas Product,
Lucky Dragons,
The Blues Magoos,
Avey Tare,
Negative Approach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
Schoolly D,
Dave Gahan,
Eric Dolphy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eric Copeland,
Harry Pussy,
Rites of Spring,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joe Smooth,
Bob Dylan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Peter & Gordon,
The Durutti Column,
Quantec,
Drive Like Jehu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
cv313,
Nico,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Skatalites,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Lynne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mr. Review,
June of 44,
Sandy B,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.