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 Czech Republic and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
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 organ 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 Ultra Naté to the rock 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Cluster,
World's Most,
Essential Logic,
The Selecter,
Swans,
June of 44,
Faraquet,
AZ,
the Normal,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
48th St. Collective,
Shoche,
Ronnie Foster,
Bill Near,
Kurtis Blow,
Skaos,
John Cale,
cv313,
Severed Heads,
The Gap Band,
Alison Limerick,
Quadrant,
Sound Behaviour,
John Lydon,
Altered Images,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Spoonie Gee,
The Real Kids,
Sugar Minott,
Laurel Aitken,
Can,
Archie Shepp,
Bob Dylan,
Joe Smooth,
Buzzcocks,
Brass Construction,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Qualms,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Animal Collective,
Von Mondo,
Hardrive,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chris Corsano,
Roy Ayers,
Blossom Toes,
The Doors,
Henry Cow,
Scrapy,
A Certain Ratio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Howard Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roger Hodgson,
Urselle,
Black Bananas,
The Trojans,
MDC,
the Association,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.