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 Syria and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Toni Rubio to the punk 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Sun City Girls,
Ken Boothe,
Wire,
Delta 5,
The Moleskins,
Moby Grape,
Janne Schatter,
Patti Smith,
The Busters,
Lou Reed,
Little Man,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Happenings,
Barrington Levy,
Oblivians,
Slave,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
Sex Pistols,
China Crisis,
Jeff Mills,
Erasure,
Ultra Naté,
Rites of Spring,
Skarface,
Quando Quango,
Organ,
Franke,
Public Enemy,
Sugar Minott,
Symarip,
Pere Ubu,
Amon Düül II,
Livin' Joy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Soft Cell,
Black Bananas,
The Vogues,
H. Thieme,
Babytalk,
Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Niagra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Spandau Ballet,
Warsaw,
Average White Band,
Dennis Brown,
Avey Tare,
Crooked Eye,
Urselle,
Danielle Patucci,
The J.B.'s,
Intrusion,
The Raincoats,
The Smoke,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.