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 Comoros and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Susan Cadogan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Ice-T,
The New Christs,
The Slackers,
Faust,
Das Ding,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Count Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lucky Dragons,
Camberwell Now,
Susan Cadogan,
X-101,
CMW,
Tres Demented,
The Associates,
Frankie Knuckles,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick May,
The Wake,
Talk Talk,
The Five Americans,
Royal Trux,
The Names,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Martian,
The Gun Club,
The Stooges,
Young Marble Giants,
Fela Kuti,
Barry Ungar,
The Knickerbockers,
The Pop Group,
Malaria!,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Fraelich,
D'Angelo,
B.T. Express,
The Pretty Things,
June of 44,
Cluster,
Lyres,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cramps,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Aswad,
Charles Mingus,
Avey Tare,
Zero Boys,
Scientists,
Fugazi,
Sister Nancy,
Camouflage,
The Buckinghams,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mantronix,
Marmalade,
Rhythm & Sound,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.