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 Slovenia and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar 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 Michelle Simonal to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Morten Harket,
Gang Gang Dance,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Judy Mowatt,
Lou Reed,
Depeche Mode,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Divine Comedy,
This Heat,
Lucky Dragons,
Alison Limerick,
Todd Rundgren,
Television,
The Gap Band,
Joe Smooth,
Stiv Bators,
Marshall Jefferson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
Moss Icon,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pere Ubu,
Cybotron,
Bobby Sherman,
Magma,
Sam Rivers,
ABC,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rod Modell,
David Axelrod,
Amon Düül II,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultra Naté,
Hardrive,
Ice-T,
Qualms,
Y Pants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Angry Samoans,
Janne Schatter,
Dead Boys,
Pantaleimon,
Wire,
Gerry Rafferty,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arthur Verocai,
Blancmange,
Dual Sessions,
Don Cherry,
Eli Mardock,
Crime,
Kerrie Biddell,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Seeds,
The Golliwogs,
Al Stewart,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.