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 Argentina and from New York.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Subhumans to the techno 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Bowie,
48th St. Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Christie,
The Martian,
Surgeon,
The Cramps,
The Zeros,
Black Moon,
Index,
Traffic Nightmare,
Qualms,
Patti Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Peter and Kerry,
Freddie Wadling,
Bizarre Inc.,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Victims,
Deadbeat,
JFA,
Funkadelic,
DJ Style,
The Tremeloes,
Prince Buster,
The Invisible,
The Moleskins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crooked Eye,
Brand Nubian,
Carl Craig,
Stiv Bators,
Brick,
La Düsseldorf,
Scan 7,
Man Eating Sloth,
Intrusion,
Marshall Jefferson,
K-Klass,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Audionom,
Fluxion,
Magma,
Charles Mingus,
Moss Icon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Flag,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
a-ha,
Schoolly D,
The Alarm Clocks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Faust,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.