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 Gambia and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Agent Orange to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Blancmange,
Suicide,
Soft Machine,
Masters at Work,
kango's stein massive,
the Normal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
B.T. Express,
Quando Quango,
Marmalade,
The Fugs,
Chris Corsano,
Crime,
The Associates,
The Slackers,
Easy Going,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Dead C,
Popol Vuh,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ohio Players,
Tubeway Army,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bob Dylan,
Man Parrish,
Kerri Chandler,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dawn Penn,
Boogie Down Productions,
Derrick Morgan,
The Young Rascals,
The Move,
Gerry Rafferty,
U.S. Maple,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Shuggie Otis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hot Snakes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Connie Case,
Intrusion,
Avey Tare,
Joe Smooth,
Freddie Wadling,
Ten City,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang of Four,
The Gap Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Crash Course in Science,
The Divine Comedy,
Matthew Halsall,
The Count Five,
Bad Manners,
Robert Görl,
Terry Callier,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.