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 Marshall Islands and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bluetip to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
The Leaves,
Gong,
Urselle,
Pantytec,
The United States of America,
Metal Thangz,
Scott Walker,
Danielle Patucci,
Japan,
Albert Ayler,
Matthew Bourne,
Scrapy,
The Zeros,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeff Mills,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Byron Stingily,
the Germs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rakim,
F. McDonald,
Wolf Eyes,
MDC,
Kerri Chandler,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Flag,
Patti Smith,
Bluetip,
Glenn Branca,
Fela Kuti,
The Durutti Column,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Fraelich,
The Sound,
The American Breed,
Dark Day,
John Foxx,
Bad Manners,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Remains,
T. Rex,
Excepter,
Dead Boys,
The Monochrome Set,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Black Dice,
Faraquet,
Bootsy Collins,
Second Layer,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Supertramp,
Royal Trux,
Letta Mbulu,
Dual Sessions,
Suburban Knight,
Anakelly,
Bob Dylan,
The Slackers,
Underground Resistance,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.