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 Uganda and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gregory Isaacs to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Funkadelic,
Roger Hodgson,
Davy DMX,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Graham Central Station,
Gang of Four,
Slick Rick,
Japan,
Kayak,
Symarip,
Jacques Brel,
Dave Gahan,
New Age Steppers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Schoolly D,
The Doors,
Thee Headcoats,
June Days,
Bronski Beat,
Skriet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Saints,
Johnny Clarke,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Slackers,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alison Limerick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Doobie Brothers,
Chrome,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gang Green,
Warren Ellis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
The Pop Group,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tommy Roe,
Chris Corsano,
Sight & Sound,
Connie Case,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fear,
The Zeros,
Scan 7,
Soft Cell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grandmaster Flash,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.