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 Peru and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the grime 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Gichy Dan,
Underground Resistance,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Wells,
Desert Stars,
Faraquet,
Skriet,
The Slits,
Junior Murvin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Motorama,
Lou Christie,
Rotary Connection,
The Black Dice,
AZ,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barrington Levy,
Monolake,
The Seeds,
Animal Collective,
Main Source,
Byron Stingily,
Don Cherry,
Boz Scaggs,
Rites of Spring,
Tubeway Army,
the Sonics,
Make Up,
Lightning Bolt,
Michelle Simonal,
Scratch Acid,
Cymande,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brass Construction,
Black Pus,
Camouflage,
Pere Ubu,
the Human League,
Youth Brigade,
The Gories,
Funky Four + One,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mummies,
Grauzone,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul Sonic Force,
Robert Hood,
Albert Ayler,
Amazonics,
Colin Newman,
Neil Young,
The Remains,
Adolescents,
Half Japanese,
Black Moon,
Buzzcocks,
ABC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Bananas,
Joe Finger,
Mary Jane Girls,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.