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 Mauritania and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Barrington Levy to the rock 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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
June Days,
Blancmange,
Khruangbin,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mr. Review,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sarah Menescal,
Archie Shepp,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fortunes,
Gong,
Yazoo,
The Last Poets,
X-101,
Michelle Simonal,
Porter Ricks,
The Neon Judgement,
Masters at Work,
Althea and Donna,
Qualms,
Throbbing Gristle,
China Crisis,
Fear,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thompson Twins,
Tres Demented,
Deadbeat,
CMW,
a-ha,
Eddi Front,
The Gories,
Pole,
The Happenings,
The Smiths,
Sparks,
The Selecter,
the Bar-Kays,
Connie Case,
Tears for Fears,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slits,
Laurel Aitken,
The Music Machine,
Audionom,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brass Construction,
The Fire Engines,
Soulsonic Force,
Neu!,
Swans,
Harmonia,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mark Hollis,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Holt,
The Monochrome Set,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.