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 Malaysia and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Crooked Eye to the dance 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cowsills,
Dead Boys,
Chrome,
Intrusion,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joyce Sims,
Kenny Larkin,
Connie Case,
Little Man,
Lucky Dragons,
Jacob Miller,
The Saints,
Dawn Penn,
Bluetip,
Slave,
Bobby Womack,
Newcleus,
Moss Icon,
Television Personalities,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fat Boys,
Pet Shop Boys,
Morten Harket,
Jeff Lynne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jawbox,
Surgeon,
Yazoo,
Freddie Wadling,
Blossom Toes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
The Misunderstood,
Johnny Osbourne,
Loose Ends,
The Wake,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fall,
Steve Hackett,
kango's stein massive,
AZ,
Nick Fraelich,
The Trojans,
Bill Near,
Aloha Tigers,
Trumans Water,
Sonic Youth,
The Litter,
Idris Muhammad,
Minor Threat,
DNA,
Marc Almond,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marine Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Terry Callier,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.