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 Russia and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pussy Galore to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Tears for Fears,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Dead C,
Morten Harket,
Ossler,
The Standells,
Al Stewart,
The Red Krayola,
L. Decosne,
Wolf Eyes,
Angry Samoans,
Fugazi,
Altered Images,
Theoretical Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
The Kinks,
Byron Stingily,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Half Japanese,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Desert Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Jandek,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
F. McDonald,
Peter and Kerry,
Soulsonic Force,
Yazoo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Brick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Clear Light,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Starr,
Urselle,
Parry Music,
Moby Grape,
The Tremeloes,
Neil Young,
The Dave Clark Five,
Monolake,
Niagra,
Junior Murvin,
Funkadelic,
Mo-Dettes,
Dennis Brown,
New Age Steppers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Idris Muhammad,
The Flesh Eaters,
Todd Terry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monks,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.