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 Cuba and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 harpsichord 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 Black Sheep 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Moss Icon,
Y Pants,
Ohio Players,
Talk Talk,
Ituana,
Bob Dylan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Enemy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hardrive,
Grauzone,
Spandau Ballet,
Harry Pussy,
Scan 7,
Scientists,
Fat Boys,
Clear Light,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Zeros,
Peter & Gordon,
Soft Machine,
Vainqueur,
The Move,
Black Bananas,
Anthony Braxton,
The Saints,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soulsonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Electric Prunes,
Swell Maps,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultravox,
Mantronix,
The Doors,
Crash Course in Science,
James Chance & The Contortions,
La Düsseldorf,
Freddie Wadling,
Amon Düül,
Television,
Hoover,
The Sound,
Jeff Mills,
The Real Kids,
Sun City Girls,
Tom Boy,
Aloha Tigers,
Saccharine Trust,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Birthday Party,
One Last Wish,
Terry Callier,
Sällskapet,
Deakin,
CMW,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Byrd,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.