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 Mozambique and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Andrew Hill to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Radio Birdman,
Bush Tetras,
Warsaw,
Oblivians,
Groovy Waters,
Nik Kershaw,
Excepter,
The Offenders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gong,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dirtbombs,
Rapeman,
Quando Quango,
Donald Byrd,
Alice Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
Young Marble Giants,
The Divine Comedy,
Stetsasonic,
Eddi Front,
Erykah Badu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Section 25,
A Certain Ratio,
Brand Nubian,
Pierre Henry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lyres,
Eric B and Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Motions,
cv313,
H. Thieme,
Brick,
Spandau Ballet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Byron Stingily,
The Five Americans,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Birthday Party,
Joe Smooth,
Tommy Roe,
F. McDonald,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echospace,
Barclay James Harvest,
Livin' Joy,
Ludus,
Schoolly D,
The Smoke,
The Fall,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rekid,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.