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 Egypt and from London.
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 Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Patti Smith to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
The Dirtbombs,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Almond,
The Moody Blues,
Monolake,
Ultravox,
Shoche,
cv313,
Lou Reed,
Rapeman,
a-ha,
Lalann,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sparks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Connie Case,
Malaria!,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barry Ungar,
Letta Mbulu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T. Rex,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Mission of Burma,
EPMD,
Erasure,
Groovy Waters,
Black Bananas,
Das Ding,
Maurizio,
Faraquet,
Ten City,
Howard Jones,
Pantytec,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Trojans,
Ronan,
Leonard Cohen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Standells,
the Normal,
Little Man,
the Sonics,
Black Moon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pussy Galore,
Drive Like Jehu,
Y Pants,
Hoover,
David McCallum,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rites of Spring,
The Knickerbockers,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.