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 Zimbabwe and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
David Bowie,
Anakelly,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sugar Minott,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Saccharine Trust,
Harry Pussy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fela Kuti,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crooked Eye,
Pulsallama,
Subhumans,
The Trojans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cure,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rufus Thomas,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mo-Dettes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Interpol,
Lungfish,
The Golliwogs,
the Sonics,
Alphaville,
Brand Nubian,
The Angels of Light,
Soul II Soul,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scrapy,
KRS-One,
Minor Threat,
Pantaleimon,
Tommy Roe,
Japan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Pretty Things,
E-Dancer,
Ralphi Rosario,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Index,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fad Gadget,
The Slackers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Walker Brothers,
Mars,
The Martian,
The Sound,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nirvana,
Wire,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.