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 Morocco and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Raincoats to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat 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 disco 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 a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Ronnie Foster,
Arthur Verocai,
T.S.O.L.,
Maurizio,
Soft Cell,
Peter & Gordon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blake Baxter,
The Evens,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cecil Taylor,
Scott Walker,
the Fania All-Stars,
Oneida,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soft Machine,
Buzzcocks,
Saccharine Trust,
Panda Bear,
The Knickerbockers,
Johnny Clarke,
E-Dancer,
Negative Approach,
Procol Harum,
Ultra Naté,
Franke,
Alton Ellis,
The Cramps,
Oblivians,
Echospace,
Slave,
Amazonics,
Crash Course in Science,
Fluxion,
Circle Jerks,
Toni Rubio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marmalade,
Zero Boys,
Monks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
48th St. Collective,
Davy DMX,
Deadbeat,
Popol Vuh,
Spoonie Gee,
Swell Maps,
Stiv Bators,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nick Fraelich,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Bananas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Matthew Halsall,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sällskapet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.