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 Sri Lanka and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the dance 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Stiv Bators,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DNA,
cv313,
Heaven 17,
Motorama,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Real Kids,
The Toasters,
The Smiths,
Organ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eli Mardock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Trojans,
The Human League,
Ken Boothe,
Shuggie Otis,
Colin Newman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Jesper Dahlback,
MDC,
U.S. Maple,
Boredoms,
The Fall,
the Normal,
The Golliwogs,
Graham Central Station,
Mark Hollis,
UT,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Monks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun Ra,
Loose Ends,
Kas Product,
Dead Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Spoonie Gee,
Whodini,
The Fortunes,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeru the Damaja,
David Axelrod,
Kaleidoscope,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Second Layer,
Kurtis Blow,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mojo Men,
Fad Gadget,
Excepter,
Vladislav Delay,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.