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 China and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Curtis Mayfield to the techno 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alphaville,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Monks,
Kerri Chandler,
Visage,
F. McDonald,
Joe Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
Wolf Eyes,
Vainqueur,
The Cure,
Frankie Knuckles,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rites of Spring,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Prunes,
The Move,
The Grass Roots,
Alice Coltrane,
Graham Central Station,
Jerry's Kids,
Mr. Review,
Rakim,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
John Coltrane,
10cc,
Los Fastidios,
Michelle Simonal,
Malaria!,
Max Romeo,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bill Near,
Quantec,
Scratch Acid,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Starr,
The Pretty Things,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fortunes,
Howard Jones,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Byrd,
Wire,
Goldenarms,
Q65,
The Saints,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
New York Dolls,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Monochrome Set,
Eric Copeland,
Funky Four + One,
Youth Brigade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magma,
Kayak,
Jawbox,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.