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 Suriname and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fuzztones,
Newcleus,
Second Layer,
Robert Hood,
Moby Grape,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Icehouse,
Pantytec,
Oneida,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
DNA,
The Cure,
Nas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Simply Red,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hot Snakes,
Cal Tjader,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Stooges,
Mission of Burma,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris & Cosey,
The Divine Comedy,
Blake Baxter,
The Motions,
the Sonics,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Pus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Flag,
The Trojans,
Schoolly D,
Radiohead,
Scan 7,
Kenny Larkin,
Section 25,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Prince Buster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stiv Bators,
The Shadows of Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
In Retrospect,
Minutemen,
Panda Bear,
Ice-T,
Black Bananas,
Roger Hodgson,
Interpol,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.