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 Gabon and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Leaves 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
OOIOO,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sparks,
The Gladiators,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chris & Cosey,
Erasure,
Prince Buster,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kenny Larkin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roxy Music,
Sister Nancy,
The Human League,
Deadbeat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Todd Terry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Make Up,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Massinfluence,
Livin' Joy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Porter Ricks,
Youth Brigade,
Tim Buckley,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dawn Penn,
Crash Course in Science,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quadrant,
Underground Resistance,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Pop Group,
Jeru the Damaja,
T.S.O.L.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Television,
Tomorrow,
The Saints,
Main Source,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
F. McDonald,
Nas,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fire Engines,
The Mojo Men,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.