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 Burundi and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Flipper to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Albert Ayler,
Q65,
Can,
Byron Stingily,
Jacob Miller,
Black Pus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Goldenarms,
Avey Tare,
Deadbeat,
Soft Cell,
Second Layer,
Mark Hollis,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Fat Boys,
Todd Terry,
Lakeside,
Infiniti,
Funky Four + One,
Chrome,
Moby Grape,
Flamin' Groovies,
E-Dancer,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Swans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Don Cherry,
The Real Kids,
Maurizio,
Electric Prunes,
The Skatalites,
Talk Talk,
A Certain Ratio,
X-Ray Spex,
Agent Orange,
Jimmy McGriff,
LL Cool J,
Michelle Simonal,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cal Tjader,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Harpers Bizarre,
Monolake,
Symarip,
Nas,
Au Pairs,
Thompson Twins,
Gang of Four,
The Sonics,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Kinks,
DNA,
Swans,
the Slits,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Doors,
Gabor Szabo,
Depeche Mode,
Loose Ends,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.