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 Finland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Manchester and Lagos.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Zero Boys to the jazz 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Susan Cadogan,
Smog,
Erasure,
The Searchers,
Joe Finger,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Blues Magoos,
Judy Mowatt,
Jacob Miller,
Black Moon,
The New Christs,
Minnie Riperton,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Motorama,
The Associates,
Youth Brigade,
The Velvet Underground,
Soul II Soul,
David Bowie,
Supertramp,
Rites of Spring,
Hashim,
K-Klass,
Arthur Verocai,
Lower 48,
In Retrospect,
Gong,
Drexciya,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Flipper,
Procol Harum,
Jerry Gold Smith,
These Immortal Souls,
Sight & Sound,
Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
This Heat,
The Victims,
Silicon Teens,
Crooked Eye,
Tomorrow,
Jeff Lynne,
the Slits,
Whodini,
Kenny Larkin,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gories,
Thee Headcoats,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jandek,
Neil Young,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Terry Callier,
Mad Mike,
Unrelated Segments,
Throbbing Gristle,
Make Up,
Dual Sessions,
The Pop Group,
The Mojo Men,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.