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 Poland and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Brick to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blancmange,
Gong,
David McCallum,
Pussy Galore,
Japan,
Buzzcocks,
Negative Approach,
Danielle Patucci,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
This Heat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Heaven 17,
Arab on Radar,
Warren Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Theoretical Girls,
Brick,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Qualms,
The Searchers,
Essential Logic,
Iggy Pop,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Magazine,
Arcadia,
The Doors,
The Stooges,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
Loose Ends,
Junior Murvin,
Arthur Verocai,
Pere Ubu,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ohio Players,
Reagan Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Robert Görl,
Cal Tjader,
DJ Sneak,
Girls At Our Best!,
Metal Thangz,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cure,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lakeside,
Hot Snakes,
The Selecter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Young Rascals,
Animal Collective,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Count Five,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.