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 El Salvador and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Matthew Halsall to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Darondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Gun Club,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Residents,
Second Layer,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arcadia,
Flipper,
The New Christs,
X-Ray Spex,
Minny Pops,
John Foxx,
Aural Exciters,
The Fugs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Smoke,
Brand Nubian,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nik Kershaw,
Terry Callier,
Icehouse,
Duran Duran,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bill Wells,
Rites of Spring,
Jacques Brel,
Blancmange,
Eurythmics,
Desert Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Accadde A,
Black Pus,
Altered Images,
Rapeman,
Mark Hollis,
Roger Hodgson,
The Associates,
The Last Poets,
Amazonics,
Guru Guru,
The Pretty Things,
Alton Ellis,
Eden Ahbez,
Fear,
Wings,
Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skaos,
Tropical Tobacco,
Liliput,
Scion,
Royal Trux,
Brothers Johnson,
Cheater Slicks,
Neil Young,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Vainqueur,
Robert Hood,
Supertramp,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.