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 Laos and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum 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 Zapp to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Scientists,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eric Copeland,
The Five Americans,
Crooked Eye,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Smiths,
The Grass Roots,
Rapeman,
Max Romeo,
Tubeway Army,
Avey Tare,
Alice Coltrane,
Symarip,
The Names,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Theoretical Girls,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grauzone,
The Offenders,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nirvana,
The Saints,
Radiopuhelimet,
A Certain Ratio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
E-Dancer,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kevin Saunderson,
Patti Smith,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Amon Düül,
CMW,
Model 500,
Brass Construction,
Mary Jane Girls,
One Last Wish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scan 7,
Chrome,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kayak,
Livin' Joy,
Shuggie Otis,
The Kinks,
Yaz,
Sonic Youth,
UT,
Ohio Players,
Donny Hathaway,
Echospace,
Al Stewart,
T. Rex,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.