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 Solomon Islands and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Maurizio to the crunk 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
ABC,
Henry Cow,
Sound Behaviour,
Grey Daturas,
Sarah Menescal,
Ten City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fall,
Brick,
Scientists,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
MDC,
Sixth Finger,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Todd Terry,
Eden Ahbez,
The American Breed,
Glenn Branca,
Suicide,
The Real Kids,
The Mummies,
Suburban Knight,
The Busters,
Clear Light,
Gabor Szabo,
Agitation Free,
Spandau Ballet,
Tim Buckley,
Jerry's Kids,
June of 44,
Radio Birdman,
Kerri Chandler,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The New Christs,
FM Einheit,
The Cramps,
Neu!,
Connie Case,
Morten Harket,
The Searchers,
Barrington Levy,
Amazonics,
Archie Shepp,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sam Rivers,
Hashim,
Mad Mike,
Fad Gadget,
Danielle Patucci,
Franke,
The Monks,
The Barracudas,
Dark Day,
Scrapy,
Make Up,
Dead Boys,
Q65,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.