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 Netherlands and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 Unrelated Segments to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Kerrie Biddell,
Leonard Cohen,
The Evens,
Patti Smith,
CMW,
Pussy Galore,
Easy Going,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unwound,
Yusef Lateef,
Agent Orange,
Dead Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
Make Up,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Black Dice,
Eve St. Jones,
The Slackers,
Urselle,
China Crisis,
Glenn Branca,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marvin Gaye,
Bang On A Can,
Lakeside,
Yellowson,
The Offenders,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Human League,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monks,
Ossler,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Style,
Boz Scaggs,
the Association,
Groovy Waters,
The Walker Brothers,
Aloha Tigers,
Pere Ubu,
The Barracudas,
Tears for Fears,
Barry Ungar,
Hot Snakes,
Blancmange,
Marmalade,
The Last Poets,
Johnny Clarke,
The Toasters,
Public Enemy,
Michelle Simonal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Anakelly,
Sarah Menescal,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.