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 Slovenia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Television Personalities 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
MC5,
Metal Thangz,
Yazoo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Yaz,
H. Thieme,
June of 44,
Black Sheep,
Lindisfarne,
Joensuu 1685,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Youth Brigade,
The Remains,
Clear Light,
Icehouse,
Harry Pussy,
Eli Mardock,
Bauhaus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sonny Sharrock,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Almond,
Television,
Joey Negro,
Spoonie Gee,
La Düsseldorf,
Pere Ubu,
The Techniques,
Flamin' Groovies,
Laurel Aitken,
Mr. Review,
Amazonics,
The Red Krayola,
Sandy B,
Deakin,
Smog,
Lee Hazlewood,
Andrew Hill,
Soul II Soul,
The Kinks,
The Litter,
Ornette Coleman,
Von Mondo,
Sarah Menescal,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker,
The Mojo Men,
Black Flag,
Mark Hollis,
Technova,
Marine Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Pantaleimon,
Sonic Youth,
Ultra Naté,
Bizarre Inc.,
Unrelated Segments,
Crooked Eye,
The Buckinghams,
Yellowson,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.