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 Syria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
the Fania All-Stars,
World's Most,
Hasil Adkins,
Make Up,
Sparks,
The Fuzztones,
Robert Görl,
EPMD,
Essential Logic,
Aswad,
Malaria!,
Marvin Gaye,
Roxy Music,
Aloha Tigers,
Masters at Work,
Boz Scaggs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Basic Channel,
Eddi Front,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Bananas,
The Barracudas,
Joe Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Connie Case,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bill Near,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Offenders,
Guru Guru,
Kaleidoscope,
Niagra,
Circle Jerks,
Marshall Jefferson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Birthday Party,
Infiniti,
Moby Grape,
Bob Dylan,
Glenn Branca,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ronan,
Simply Red,
Theoretical Girls,
Camberwell Now,
The United States of America,
The Gories,
Morten Harket,
Blake Baxter,
DJ Style,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hashim,
These Immortal Souls,
Visage,
James White and The Blacks,
KRS-One,
Rod Modell,
Byron Stingily,
The Slits,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.