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 Ethiopia and from Shanghai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Mars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lakeside,
Pussy Galore,
Shoche,
Throbbing Gristle,
Babytalk,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Donny Hathaway,
Erasure,
Wally Richardson,
ABC,
Spandau Ballet,
The Barracudas,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Martian,
Rhythm & Sound,
Franke,
Scott Walker,
Wire,
The Selecter,
Shuggie Otis,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Foxx,
This Heat,
48th St. Collective,
The Toasters,
Tomorrow,
Masters at Work,
The Gories,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pantaleimon,
Dave Gahan,
JFA,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lalann,
Average White Band,
Fear,
In Retrospect,
Faust,
Au Pairs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aswad,
The Electric Prunes,
Sex Pistols,
Vainqueur,
ABBA,
Thompson Twins,
Scratch Acid,
Dennis Brown,
The Remains,
Jeff Mills,
Black Sheep,
Buzzcocks,
Robert Görl,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rites of Spring,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.