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 Afghanistan and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cramps to the dance 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Eli Mardock,
X-101,
Arab on Radar,
Cecil Taylor,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Q and Not U,
The Index,
Average White Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sixth Finger,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Simply Red,
The Sonics,
Moebius,
Youth Brigade,
The Sound,
Fat Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
Danielle Patucci,
Todd Rundgren,
Blancmange,
Maurizio,
The Wake,
The Standells,
Qualms,
Suicide,
Kenny Larkin,
Thee Headcoats,
Mandrill,
Rufus Thomas,
The Martian,
Anthony Braxton,
Erasure,
Reuben Wilson,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Slits,
Eddi Front,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Alice Coltrane,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Beau Brummels,
Jacques Brel,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Hood,
the Swans,
Black Sheep,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Normal,
Duran Duran,
Yazoo,
Niagra,
Eurythmics,
Con Funk Shun,
The Toasters,
The Tremeloes,
David Axelrod,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.