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 Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Altered Images to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
Barry Ungar,
Tomorrow,
The Durutti Column,
Joe Finger,
The Dirtbombs,
Wally Richardson,
Public Enemy,
The Busters,
Lyres,
The Raincoats,
X-102,
Pylon,
Skriet,
David Axelrod,
Mr. Review,
Grauzone,
The Gladiators,
The Modern Lovers,
Rakim,
Bronski Beat,
The Happenings,
Steve Hackett,
Visage,
Popol Vuh,
Mo-Dettes,
John Lydon,
Reuben Wilson,
Sight & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bill Wells,
Peter and Kerry,
Neu!,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Golliwogs,
Ken Boothe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spandau Ballet,
Ituana,
The Doors,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric Copeland,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aural Exciters,
Saccharine Trust,
Inner City,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Don Cherry,
The Evens,
Arthur Verocai,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eden Ahbez,
Man Eating Sloth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rapeman,
Sällskapet,
The Names,
Laurel Aitken,
Lower 48,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.