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 Vietnam and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Beau Brummels to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dual Sessions. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
The Evens,
Althea and Donna,
The Barracudas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sugar Minott,
Grey Daturas,
Wings,
a-ha,
Icehouse,
Schoolly D,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fluxion,
Joensuu 1685,
The Velvet Underground,
The Five Americans,
Eddi Front,
The Neon Judgement,
Graham Central Station,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neil Young,
Minutemen,
Q and Not U,
Suicide,
Jeff Mills,
Roxette,
Visage,
Eric B and Rakim,
Con Funk Shun,
Bronski Beat,
Ralphi Rosario,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crooked Eye,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Y Pants,
T. Rex,
Rufus Thomas,
Lyres,
Colin Newman,
X-Ray Spex,
Eric Copeland,
Spandau Ballet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Circle Jerks,
DJ Sneak,
Scott Walker,
Robert Wyatt,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dead C,
Monolake,
Lower 48,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Shadows of Knight,
Heaven 17,
The Slits,
The Alarm Clocks,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.