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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron 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 David Bowie to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Slick Rick,
Rites of Spring,
Pierre Henry,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Monks,
The Neon Judgement,
Lucky Dragons,
The Trojans,
Dual Sessions,
Groovy Waters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Maurizio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Little Man,
The Sisters of Mercy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tears for Fears,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Barracudas,
UT,
Marc Almond,
Inner City,
Dead Boys,
John Lydon,
Public Enemy,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Offenders,
Scan 7,
Section 25,
Lalann,
Guru Guru,
Lightning Bolt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rosa Yemen,
Pole,
Alison Limerick,
The Buckinghams,
Gregory Isaacs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joy Division,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Faust,
The Knickerbockers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Detroit Cobras,
FM Einheit,
F. McDonald,
L. Decosne,
Jawbox,
Marmalade,
Saccharine Trust,
Flipper,
The Associates,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.