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 Colombia and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Brick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Darondo,
Siglo XX,
Los Fastidios,
Glenn Branca,
a-ha,
Adolescents,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Minutemen,
Bob Dylan,
Oblivians,
David McCallum,
Iggy Pop,
Ituana,
Curtis Mayfield,
Television Personalities,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cluster,
Ultra Naté,
Soul II Soul,
Andrew Hill,
Monolake,
Lalann,
Pere Ubu,
Joy Division,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
Crime,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Skatalites,
Japan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fatback Band,
Sällskapet,
Stetsasonic,
CMW,
Judy Mowatt,
John Coltrane,
Gabor Szabo,
The Stooges,
The Motions,
La Düsseldorf,
Suburban Knight,
Stiv Bators,
The Searchers,
Wire,
Marine Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
10cc,
The Standells,
Minny Pops,
Barrington Levy,
Smog,
Radiohead,
The Grass Roots,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
Lebanon Hanover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wally Richardson,
The Fortunes,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.