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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Tehran.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Monks to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Red Krayola,
The Modern Lovers,
Procol Harum,
Radiohead,
Mad Mike,
Model 500,
Duran Duran,
R.M.O.,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Wake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Terry Callier,
The Sound,
Mark Hollis,
June Days,
Pet Shop Boys,
Masters at Work,
Skarface,
Juan Atkins,
Pantytec,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gap Band,
Pulsallama,
Neil Young,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Sherman,
the Swans,
Clear Light,
Television,
Altered Images,
Janne Schatter,
Excepter,
The Doobie Brothers,
In Retrospect,
Nirvana,
Country Teasers,
X-101,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Slackers,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Drexciya,
The Happenings,
Scientists,
Steve Hackett,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joensuu 1685,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Byrd,
Agitation Free,
Gabor Szabo,
The Saints,
AZ,
Ponytail,
The Searchers,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.