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 Tanzania and from Spokane.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer 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 Wasted Youth to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Anakelly,
Porter Ricks,
June of 44,
K-Klass,
Quadrant,
Lakeside,
The Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
The Beau Brummels,
Dave Gahan,
The Count Five,
Lou Reed,
John Lydon,
Negative Approach,
The J.B.'s,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pylon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Desert Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
the Sonics,
Sam Rivers,
The Smiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sun Ra,
Gang Green,
cv313,
The Kinks,
Circle Jerks,
Nirvana,
Motorama,
Cymande,
Public Enemy,
Slave,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Flesh Eaters,
L. Decosne,
Absolute Body Control,
Johnny Osbourne,
Unrelated Segments,
James White and The Blacks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Patti Smith,
X-102,
Spandau Ballet,
Funkadelic,
Simply Red,
Rapeman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gap Band,
48th St. Collective,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Tremeloes,
Trumans Water,
Technova,
Peter & Gordon,
Pierre Henry,
Gang Starr,
Brick,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.