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 Romania and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 The Dead C to the electroclash 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Foxx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Byrd,
Rod Modell,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
John Coltrane,
The Saints,
Funkadelic,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Smog,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Don Cherry,
Crooked Eye,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Clear Light,
The Stooges,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Symarip,
Nirvana,
Harpers Bizarre,
Index,
Archie Shepp,
The Alarm Clocks,
Magazine,
Reagan Youth,
Soft Machine,
Warsaw,
Rotary Connection,
Eden Ahbez,
Donny Hathaway,
Drexciya,
Avey Tare,
The Fortunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Circle Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Yellowson,
Brick,
Dawn Penn,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kayak,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rapeman,
Ponytail,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marmalade,
The Dirtbombs,
The Litter,
Kaleidoscope,
Jerry's Kids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Audionom,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.