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 Spain and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron 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 The Blues Magoos to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Saccharine Trust,
Avey Tare,
Mark Hollis,
Faraquet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hashim,
Rotary Connection,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Massinfluence,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Glenn Branca,
Vainqueur,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Human League,
Pole,
Letta Mbulu,
Soulsonic Force,
Deepchord,
Negative Approach,
Gastr Del Sol,
Parry Music,
Joe Finger,
David Axelrod,
Don Cherry,
Jacob Miller,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ludus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sister Nancy,
Mr. Review,
Howard Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alphaville,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Detroit Cobras,
Josef K,
X-Ray Spex,
Moss Icon,
The Move,
Sun Ra,
Pussy Galore,
Lyres,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wasted Youth,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Sherman,
James White and The Blacks,
Second Layer,
The Gap Band,
Harmonia,
The Fortunes,
Bronski Beat,
Motorama,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.