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 Sierra Leone and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 the Normal to the rap 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Make Up,
Sun City Girls,
The Stooges,
Rakim,
The Techniques,
Brothers Johnson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Al Stewart,
Ultravox,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cameo,
The Victims,
Todd Terry,
The Shadows of Knight,
Aswad,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sugar Minott,
Magma,
Fatback Band,
Rod Modell,
Wings,
Sparks,
The Music Machine,
The Seeds,
Isaac Hayes,
The Raincoats,
Robert Hood,
Severed Heads,
The Count Five,
Oneida,
Kenny Larkin,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
Adolescents,
Aloha Tigers,
KRS-One,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aural Exciters,
Amon Düül,
Bill Wells,
Jeff Lynne,
This Heat,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
Bronski Beat,
Yellowson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vladislav Delay,
Susan Cadogan,
Negative Approach,
Absolute Body Control,
Byron Stingily,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crooked Eye,
James White and The Blacks,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.