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 Brunei and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Girls At Our Best! to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Silicon Teens,
Cymande,
Crime,
The Gladiators,
Davy DMX,
Q and Not U,
Neil Young,
Lyres,
Tears for Fears,
Spoonie Gee,
D'Angelo,
Bauhaus,
Drexciya,
Bill Near,
Brick,
Desert Stars,
The Index,
The Velvet Underground,
Yaz,
Arcadia,
Minny Pops,
Glenn Branca,
Harry Pussy,
Theoretical Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Iggy Pop,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Moebius,
Porter Ricks,
Pussy Galore,
Tropical Tobacco,
Don Cherry,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Association,
Archie Shepp,
Bob Dylan,
Monks,
John Coltrane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Negative Approach,
Au Pairs,
Metal Thangz,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DJ Sneak,
Khruangbin,
The Fugs,
Derrick May,
Sugar Minott,
Swell Maps,
Al Stewart,
Camouflage,
Nico,
Visage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Susan Cadogan,
Babytalk,
Television Personalities,
Dave Gahan,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.