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 Burkina and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 The Selecter to the grunge 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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick 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?
Maurizio,
The Blackbyrds,
Erasure,
Ludus,
Gang of Four,
the Fania All-Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mo-Dettes,
Joy Division,
Supertramp,
Liliput,
Kerri Chandler,
Soulsonic Force,
New Age Steppers,
The Motions,
Public Image Ltd.,
CMW,
Alphaville,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
K-Klass,
Radio Birdman,
Heaven 17,
Franke,
the Sonics,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Raincoats,
Los Fastidios,
Max Romeo,
Howard Jones,
Connie Case,
Moss Icon,
Scott Walker,
Inner City,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flipper,
Magma,
Zero Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Chrome,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Vainqueur,
Soul Sonic Force,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Slits,
Motorama,
Grey Daturas,
The Vogues,
Masters at Work,
The Gladiators,
Judy Mowatt,
Brothers Johnson,
U.S. Maple,
Sparks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Flag,
Mr. Review,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.