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 Turkey and from Mumbai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Mad Mike to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Derrick Morgan,
The Stooges,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kas Product,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
Marcia Griffiths,
Johnny Osbourne,
Arab on Radar,
The Raincoats,
Organ,
the Sonics,
F. McDonald,
Blake Baxter,
Roxette,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joyce Sims,
The Happenings,
Radiohead,
Black Flag,
Shoche,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marmalade,
Bobby Womack,
Mandrill,
La Düsseldorf,
Swell Maps,
Warren Ellis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Maurizio,
Toni Rubio,
Theoretical Girls,
David McCallum,
UT,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Al Stewart,
Cal Tjader,
Infiniti,
Tubeway Army,
Excepter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lucky Dragons,
Talk Talk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Christie,
Crooked Eye,
Marine Girls,
B.T. Express,
The Walker Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
the Human League,
The J.B.'s,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stereo Dub,
The Offenders,
Faust,
Ultravox,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.