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 Austria and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Last Poets to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Faraquet,
Rekid,
Japan,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
Soft Machine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dawn Penn,
The Smiths,
Barrington Levy,
Cybotron,
Black Bananas,
Sugar Minott,
Khruangbin,
Brass Construction,
Marine Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Coltrane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Goldenarms,
Lightning Bolt,
June of 44,
Royal Trux,
Hashim,
Chrome,
The Zeros,
ABBA,
Rapeman,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
Monks,
Silicon Teens,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ohio Players,
Eli Mardock,
Fad Gadget,
John Lydon,
The Sound,
Deakin,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scientists,
Lou Reed,
The Star Department,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DNA,
Wasted Youth,
MC5,
The Electric Prunes,
Au Pairs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Barracudas,
Al Stewart,
Minutemen,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cosmic Jokers,
U.S. Maple,
Banda Bassotti,
Scrapy,
The Slits,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.