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 Ivory Coast and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 In Retrospect to the grime 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Unrelated Segments,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
8 Eyed Spy,
MDC,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter & Gordon,
Brass Construction,
The Saints,
Kerrie Biddell,
Echospace,
Audionom,
Alison Limerick,
Liliput,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chrome,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Trojans,
Saccharine Trust,
David McCallum,
Metal Thangz,
Prince Buster,
Lucky Dragons,
Spandau Ballet,
Pagans,
Index,
Roxette,
Das Ding,
Marvin Gaye,
Dual Sessions,
Fear,
Blake Baxter,
Little Man,
The Fire Engines,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Tom Boy,
Lungfish,
Babytalk,
Smog,
Robert Wyatt,
Camberwell Now,
Archie Shepp,
Qualms,
L. Decosne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mandrill,
Mad Mike,
Half Japanese,
Dennis Brown,
Second Layer,
Lindisfarne,
Matthew Bourne,
Eve St. Jones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ituana,
Funky Four + One,
Jawbox,
Donny Hathaway,
David Bowie,
Black Pus,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.