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 Switzerland and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro 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 Young Marble Giants to the disco 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Porter Ricks,
Cymande,
Bob Dylan,
Kerri Chandler,
The Names,
The American Breed,
Parry Music,
The Barracudas,
The Offenders,
Ludus,
Slick Rick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Procol Harum,
Ituana,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nik Kershaw,
Kerrie Biddell,
Colin Newman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Velvet Underground,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mummies,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dirtbombs,
CMW,
Bluetip,
World's Most,
Bang On A Can,
Dennis Brown,
Godley & Creme,
Faust,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jandek,
Moby Grape,
Loose Ends,
Pet Shop Boys,
David McCallum,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flipper,
Susan Cadogan,
Chris Corsano,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
Supertramp,
Adolescents,
Schoolly D,
Bobbi Humphrey,
T. Rex,
Talk Talk,
Boz Scaggs,
Glenn Branca,
Ultimate Spinach,
Monks,
Unrelated Segments,
Rufus Thomas,
Second Layer,
Lyres,
Lakeside,
Rites of Spring,
L. Decosne,
Skarface,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.