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 Lithuania 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxy Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Index,
AZ,
Carl Craig,
Soft Machine,
The Monks,
Ludus,
Sex Pistols,
Royal Trux,
Depeche Mode,
Boredoms,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Music Machine,
Bush Tetras,
Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Smoke,
Saccharine Trust,
The Beau Brummels,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Moody Blues,
The Cowsills,
the Association,
The New Christs,
Agitation Free,
The Associates,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scan 7,
Aswad,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
T. Rex,
The Pretty Things,
The Count Five,
The Smiths,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Masters at Work,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Bananas,
Silicon Teens,
X-101,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Massinfluence,
Theoretical Girls,
Tom Boy,
Howard Jones,
Brass Construction,
Visage,
Delta 5,
Eric B and Rakim,
Subhumans,
The Five Americans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Slackers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
New Age Steppers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.