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 Salvador.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lou Reed to the grime 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Hashim,
The Dirtbombs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Urselle,
Radio Birdman,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Misunderstood,
Bill Wells,
The Martian,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
These Immortal Souls,
Flash Fearless,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Au Pairs,
Unwound,
Basic Channel,
DJ Style,
Joe Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fire Engines,
Sight & Sound,
Roxy Music,
Sister Nancy,
Soulsonic Force,
Inner City,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cameo,
Youth Brigade,
Dead Boys,
Kayak,
Television Personalities,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Trojans,
Davy DMX,
Gastr Del Sol,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Audionom,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Litter,
Tubeway Army,
Trumans Water,
Brothers Johnson,
World's Most,
Scrapy,
Country Teasers,
Unrelated Segments,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yusef Lateef,
Jacob Miller,
Sandy B,
The Happenings,
T. Rex,
The Move,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nick Fraelich,
The Monochrome Set,
Brass Construction,
The Toasters,
The Divine Comedy,
John Holt,
Graham Central Station,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.