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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scion to the disco 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Agitation Free,
Throbbing Gristle,
Das Ding,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Bananas,
Echospace,
Second Layer,
Skriet,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scrapy,
Black Moon,
ABBA,
The Star Department,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soft Machine,
Outsiders,
Pere Ubu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Amon Düül,
Alison Limerick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Music Machine,
Cluster,
Oblivians,
The Golliwogs,
EPMD,
Scion,
PIL,
The Selecter,
The Pretty Things,
The Names,
Al Stewart,
Jawbox,
a-ha,
Quadrant,
Thee Headcoats,
The Tremeloes,
The Fuzztones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barrington Levy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joensuu 1685,
Panda Bear,
Blancmange,
Reuben Wilson,
Neu!,
Dawn Penn,
Moss Icon,
Nas,
Albert Ayler,
Fatback Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Rekid,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ronan,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.