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 Tonga and from Philadelphia.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba 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 Shoche to the grime 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Robert Wyatt,
The Litter,
Brass Construction,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Smog,
John Cale,
Ultravox,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cybotron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ronan,
EPMD,
Donny Hathaway,
Pole,
Hot Snakes,
Scientists,
Hasil Adkins,
Massinfluence,
Agent Orange,
Bauhaus,
Accadde A,
Technova,
Black Bananas,
Barrington Levy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hashim,
Kayak,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Standells,
Quadrant,
Malaria!,
The Evens,
ABBA,
Pussy Galore,
The Birthday Party,
Jawbox,
Tears for Fears,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Interpol,
X-102,
KRS-One,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Sherman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Walker Brothers,
Boredoms,
John Lydon,
Glenn Branca,
Flipper,
Japan,
Outsiders,
The Slackers,
Gong,
Ice-T,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.