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 Costa Rica and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Stockholm Monsters to the rock 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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Aural Exciters,
Wings,
Brick,
Interpol,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dave Gahan,
PIL,
World's Most,
The Wake,
Unrelated Segments,
Jawbox,
Sonic Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
Average White Band,
Janne Schatter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Buzzcocks,
Henry Cow,
Mars,
Colin Newman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Fania All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Bad Manners,
Ituana,
Bill Near,
Pantaleimon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Camberwell Now,
Cal Tjader,
Al Stewart,
Moby Grape,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Neon Judgement,
The Monks,
The Blackbyrds,
Lebanon Hanover,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Royal Trux,
DNA,
Soft Cell,
Shoche,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Walker Brothers,
Moebius,
Soft Machine,
Rekid,
David Bowie,
Ralphi Rosario,
Boogie Down Productions,
Loose Ends,
Zero Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Ken Boothe,
MDC,
The Standells,
Suburban Knight,
Gong,
Jimmy McGriff,
Qualms,
Barrington Levy,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.