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 Lithuania and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 New York and Manila.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Mr. Review,
Second Layer,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Flipper,
a-ha,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gregory Isaacs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Andrew Hill,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Easy Going,
Pole,
Kool Moe Dee,
Organ,
Fad Gadget,
Rod Modell,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Adolescents,
The Offenders,
Spandau Ballet,
Bad Manners,
Al Stewart,
The J.B.'s,
The Cure,
Sällskapet,
Sight & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
China Crisis,
Graham Central Station,
Accadde A,
Robert Hood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Holt,
Intrusion,
The Pretty Things,
Fugazi,
Technova,
Kayak,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Erykah Badu,
LL Cool J,
Electric Prunes,
Youth Brigade,
The Selecter,
The Vogues,
Juan Atkins,
The Buckinghams,
Ludus,
Inner City,
The Index,
Eddi Front,
Pussy Galore,
H. Thieme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nirvana,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Liliput,
The Misunderstood,
Wings,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.