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 Indonesia 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Clear Light to the rock 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Bill Near,
H. Thieme,
A Certain Ratio,
Wally Richardson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric Dolphy,
The American Breed,
Prince Buster,
Charles Mingus,
John Foxx,
Terrestrial Tones,
Country Teasers,
Johnny Clarke,
Radio Birdman,
Mission of Burma,
Morten Harket,
Main Source,
Au Pairs,
Quando Quango,
Little Man,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeff Mills,
Jeff Lynne,
JFA,
The Zeros,
The Velvet Underground,
The Dead C,
Echospace,
Darondo,
Radiohead,
Man Parrish,
The Modern Lovers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ponytail,
Malaria!,
Gong,
Eve St. Jones,
Maleditus Sound,
Surgeon,
U.S. Maple,
Al Stewart,
Aswad,
Drive Like Jehu,
Letta Mbulu,
Los Fastidios,
Isaac Hayes,
The Divine Comedy,
Sun City Girls,
Sixth Finger,
Ludus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Zapp,
Stereo Dub,
Gichy Dan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Association,
Ohio Players,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Seeds,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.