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 Peru and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cluster to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum 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 harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Dark Day,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ludus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mr. Review,
Echospace,
The Cure,
Easy Going,
Aswad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blake Baxter,
Patti Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Newcleus,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Al Stewart,
Fear,
Accadde A,
Inner City,
The Fall,
Tom Boy,
Derrick Morgan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Blossom Toes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Stooges,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brick,
Radio Birdman,
Aural Exciters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Skatalites,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Techniques,
Glenn Branca,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Silicon Teens,
Essential Logic,
Subhumans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Five Americans,
Boz Scaggs,
Alphaville,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dual Sessions,
Spoonie Gee,
Television Personalities,
The Names,
Leonard Cohen,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Standells,
Roy Ayers,
Ituana,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Agitation Free,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.