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 Lithuania and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 John Foxx to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pagans,
Monks,
Zero Boys,
EPMD,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marine Girls,
Marc Almond,
David Axelrod,
Henry Cow,
Gang Starr,
Dark Day,
Los Fastidios,
Nas,
Ossler,
Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
Zapp,
Black Sheep,
Tim Buckley,
Joy Division,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Junior Murvin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blossom Toes,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
Nico,
Guru Guru,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fortunes,
Colin Newman,
The Human League,
Alice Coltrane,
Tropical Tobacco,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tears for Fears,
Pylon,
Laurel Aitken,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Man Parrish,
Panda Bear,
Peter and Kerry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sarah Menescal,
The Motions,
Fear,
Moss Icon,
Circle Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Lou Christie,
Icehouse,
The Music Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.