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 Nigeria and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Simply Red to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Average White Band,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lower 48,
T. Rex,
The Saints,
Lou Christie,
Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks,
The Victims,
New Age Steppers,
The Kinks,
The Slackers,
The Angels of Light,
The Remains,
Cheater Slicks,
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
Trumans Water,
Flash Fearless,
Liliput,
Joe Finger,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Techniques,
Simply Red,
The Cramps,
Wire,
Au Pairs,
Second Layer,
Sound Behaviour,
Outsiders,
Unrelated Segments,
Negative Approach,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suburban Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fuzztones,
The Move,
Alison Limerick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Duran Duran,
Archie Shepp,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sällskapet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mandrill,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arcadia,
Audionom,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jacques Brel,
Rekid,
Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.