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 Netherlands and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar 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 Eric Copeland to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin 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 marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Outsiders,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marshall Jefferson,
Suicide,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Young Marble Giants,
10cc,
Maleditus Sound,
Model 500,
Lightning Bolt,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeff Lynne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
The Fire Engines,
Judy Mowatt,
John Lydon,
Pulsallama,
Black Sheep,
DJ Sneak,
Blake Baxter,
New York Dolls,
The Monochrome Set,
Anakelly,
Interpol,
Neil Young,
Excepter,
Peter & Gordon,
Make Up,
The Blues Magoos,
The Music Machine,
Gang Starr,
MDC,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Trojans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Althea and Donna,
Crime,
The Zeros,
Eric Copeland,
Brass Construction,
Soft Cell,
Morten Harket,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amon Düül,
the Bar-Kays,
Dead Boys,
Brick,
The Divine Comedy,
Scientists,
David Axelrod,
Andrew Hill,
The Busters,
Easy Going,
Vladislav Delay,
Yazoo,
the Swans,
The Pop Group,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.