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 Egypt and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Warsaw to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Dead Boys,
Jandek,
Swans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Last Poets,
Make Up,
Camberwell Now,
OOIOO,
Nils Olav,
Blancmange,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Selecter,
the Soft Cell,
Rod Modell,
Aswad,
Derrick May,
Accadde A,
Byron Stingily,
The Doobie Brothers,
Television Personalities,
Lower 48,
Rites of Spring,
Rosa Yemen,
UT,
The Star Department,
Connie Case,
Flipper,
Steve Hackett,
Scratch Acid,
Little Man,
The Black Dice,
Minny Pops,
The United States of America,
Alice Coltrane,
These Immortal Souls,
Pantaleimon,
Faust,
The Detroit Cobras,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Standells,
The Shadows of Knight,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scott Walker,
Tim Buckley,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Frankie Knuckles,
Darondo,
Avey Tare,
Anthony Braxton,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Victims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Outsiders,
Sun Ra,
Shuggie Otis,
The Seeds,
Magazine,
Ultra Naté,
Talk Talk,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.