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 Belgium and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Peter and Kerry to the grime 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Lucky Dragons,
Country Teasers,
Franke,
B.T. Express,
Junior Murvin,
Crooked Eye,
L. Decosne,
The J.B.'s,
the Association,
World's Most,
Boredoms,
Al Stewart,
Niagra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Model 500,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Wyatt,
Banda Bassotti,
Slave,
Marvin Gaye,
Duran Duran,
Altered Images,
Black Sheep,
Easy Going,
Jandek,
One Last Wish,
In Retrospect,
Tropical Tobacco,
R.M.O.,
Dead Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
CMW,
Zero Boys,
Y Pants,
Bauhaus,
Althea and Donna,
Pere Ubu,
Sugar Minott,
Tom Boy,
Yazoo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacques Brel,
Wally Richardson,
The Moody Blues,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terry Callier,
Eddi Front,
The Cure,
Mary Jane Girls,
Erasure,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Sneak,
Man Parrish,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dorothy Ashby,
Heaven 17,
Don Cherry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ossler,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.