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 Albania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gang Starr to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Black Moon,
Neu!,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gladiators,
Yaz,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stereo Dub,
Rekid,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oneida,
PIL,
Nirvana,
Traffic Nightmare,
Skaos,
Slave,
Tom Boy,
Robert Wyatt,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
Althea and Donna,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Monochrome Set,
Matthew Halsall,
Fear,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grauzone,
Intrusion,
Audionom,
R.M.O.,
The Knickerbockers,
48th St. Collective,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
AZ,
John Foxx,
Popol Vuh,
Sparks,
Shuggie Otis,
Amon Düül,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Skatalites,
Reuben Wilson,
Interpol,
June Days,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Janne Schatter,
Con Funk Shun,
Anakelly,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Young Marble Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Faust,
Soft Cell,
Minutemen,
ABC,
Mandrill,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DNA,
Depeche Mode,
The Gories,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.