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 Liechtenstein and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar 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 Leonard Cohen to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Severed Heads,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joensuu 1685,
Max Romeo,
Sugar Minott,
Excepter,
Lyres,
Aswad,
The Pop Group,
The Sonics,
Black Pus,
The United States of America,
The Monks,
Blancmange,
Lou Christie,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thee Headcoats,
The Remains,
Neu!,
The Golliwogs,
Yaz,
Alice Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fuzztones,
Symarip,
The Five Americans,
Negative Approach,
Arab on Radar,
Monolake,
Mark Hollis,
Fat Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
Matthew Halsall,
a-ha,
Banda Bassotti,
The Real Kids,
Warsaw,
DNA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ituana,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soft Cell,
Sister Nancy,
Television,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cybotron,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül,
Skaos,
The Durutti Column,
Jacques Brel,
CMW,
La Düsseldorf,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sarah Menescal,
Terrestrial Tones,
Main Source,
The Fall,
Scrapy,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.