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 Italy and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Connie Case to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Essential Logic,
KRS-One,
The Tremeloes,
X-102,
Sixth Finger,
Von Mondo,
Clear Light,
Lou Christie,
Shoche,
Todd Rundgren,
Rekid,
Shuggie Otis,
Ultravox,
The Slackers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
World's Most,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nas,
Motorama,
Camberwell Now,
The Searchers,
The Busters,
Thompson Twins,
John Holt,
Warsaw,
Juan Atkins,
Spoonie Gee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Vainqueur,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gap Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Techniques,
Kenny Larkin,
Soul II Soul,
Quando Quango,
Niagra,
Brothers Johnson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Buckinghams,
Youth Brigade,
Harmonia,
The Martian,
Monolake,
Nik Kershaw,
Urselle,
Charles Mingus,
Lower 48,
The Flesh Eaters,
Absolute Body Control,
the Swans,
the Slits,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boredoms,
E-Dancer,
Public Image Ltd.,
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.