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 Saudi Arabia and from Mumbai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the crunk 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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marmalade,
Robert Hood,
Alice Coltrane,
Tropical Tobacco,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dead Boys,
The Birthday Party,
Skriet,
Cameo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Warsaw,
Sonic Youth,
The New Christs,
Jacques Brel,
MC5,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Connie Case,
Wasted Youth,
Matthew Halsall,
Pylon,
Boz Scaggs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
David McCallum,
The Fuzztones,
Buzzcocks,
Soft Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Henry Cow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lou Reed,
Idris Muhammad,
The Associates,
Alton Ellis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Visage,
The Young Rascals,
Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
Sun City Girls,
Fatback Band,
Liliput,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joe Smooth,
the Human League,
Terry Callier,
H. Thieme,
Tom Boy,
Das Ding,
Dave Gahan,
Spandau Ballet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Seeds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Audionom,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.