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 Latvia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 The Martian to the disco 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Tres Demented,
Barry Ungar,
Talk Talk,
Donald Byrd,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Litter,
Bobby Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
Marc Almond,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Buzzcocks,
John Cale,
Suburban Knight,
Ken Boothe,
The Misunderstood,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Pierre Henry,
Soul II Soul,
Glambeats Corp.,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Aaron Thompson,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sex Pistols,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dennis Brown,
the Soft Cell,
D'Angelo,
Joey Negro,
Little Man,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lebanon Hanover,
Janne Schatter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stiv Bators,
Bang On A Can,
Average White Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
The Monks,
Tom Boy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Leonard Cohen,
Inner City,
Aloha Tigers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Television Personalities,
Severed Heads,
The Black Dice,
a-ha,
DJ Style,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.