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 Senegal and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Smog,
The Fuzztones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Junior Murvin,
Pantaleimon,
Sex Pistols,
the Soft Cell,
John Holt,
Banda Bassotti,
Television Personalities,
Judy Mowatt,
Scion,
Hasil Adkins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Motions,
Magazine,
Warren Ellis,
Kurtis Blow,
DJ Sneak,
Mr. Review,
Maurizio,
AZ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ituana,
Amazonics,
Scrapy,
Malaria!,
Maleditus Sound,
ABBA,
Tears for Fears,
The Wake,
Minutemen,
a-ha,
Letta Mbulu,
KRS-One,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
EPMD,
Eric B and Rakim,
Henry Cow,
The Dead C,
Sugar Minott,
Groovy Waters,
Tomorrow,
The Angels of Light,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Monolake,
Second Layer,
Negative Approach,
Vainqueur,
Traffic Nightmare,
Warsaw,
Chrome,
Fear,
Urselle,
Mark Hollis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rod Modell,
Sonic Youth,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.