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 Australia and from Bremen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
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 1978 at the first Visage 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 Fat Boys to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Adolescents,
Pantaleimon,
the Soft Cell,
Youth Brigade,
Avey Tare,
Groovy Waters,
The Durutti Column,
Bang On A Can,
Scientists,
The Smoke,
FM Einheit,
Deakin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Monks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Byron Stingily,
The Cramps,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mojo Men,
Marvin Gaye,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Sherman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Unwound,
The Cowsills,
Main Source,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Byrd,
Sarah Menescal,
Supertramp,
Negative Approach,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Derrick Morgan,
A Certain Ratio,
Johnny Clarke,
Television,
Black Pus,
Bob Dylan,
Tommy Roe,
Jeff Lynne,
Todd Rundgren,
The Vogues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
Kenny Larkin,
Young Marble Giants,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eve St. Jones,
Schoolly D,
MDC,
Zero Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Intrusion,
Rakim,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.