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 Kyrgyzstan and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Arthur Verocai to the rock 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Au Pairs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wolf Eyes,
Buzzcocks,
Black Bananas,
John Lydon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Altered Images,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Cowsills,
U.S. Maple,
Alphaville,
The Mummies,
China Crisis,
A Certain Ratio,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Womack,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Red Krayola,
The Remains,
Man Parrish,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
Bush Tetras,
Symarip,
Marmalade,
48th St. Collective,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tres Demented,
Dead Boys,
Wings,
Second Layer,
Average White Band,
June Days,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mo-Dettes,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cymande,
Glambeats Corp.,
Talk Talk,
ABBA,
Underground Resistance,
Reagan Youth,
The Smiths,
Deepchord,
Scan 7,
Colin Newman,
Bronski Beat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The New Christs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Niagra,
ABC,
Fatback Band,
Soft Machine,
Minor Threat,
Tim Buckley,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultravox,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.