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 Sudan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Happenings to the disco 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
K-Klass,
Curtis Mayfield,
Heaven 17,
John Cale,
Marcia Griffiths,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jesper Dahlback,
Minutemen,
Organ,
Minny Pops,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bizarre Inc.,
Swell Maps,
Inner City,
Pylon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Desert Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Reed,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Agent Orange,
John Foxx,
Ronan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jandek,
Peter & Gordon,
The Toasters,
The Litter,
The Divine Comedy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ice-T,
The Smoke,
Rakim,
James White and The Blacks,
Chrome,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Liliput,
Nik Kershaw,
Archie Shepp,
Jacques Brel,
Drive Like Jehu,
Main Source,
the Bar-Kays,
Warren Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Iggy Pop,
Avey Tare,
The Stooges,
the Soft Cell,
Piero Umiliani,
Bush Tetras,
The Names,
Matthew Bourne,
The Grass Roots,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Bananas,
Young Marble Giants,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.