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 St Lucia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Selecter to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Public Enemy,
Masters at Work,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Suburban Knight,
Warsaw,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cal Tjader,
Juan Atkins,
Marvin Gaye,
Sugar Minott,
Heaven 17,
Swell Maps,
Ohio Players,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gladiators,
Mary Jane Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Robert Hood,
Dorothy Ashby,
Matthew Halsall,
Boredoms,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rakim,
Motorama,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Desert Stars,
Cecil Taylor,
Quadrant,
Sister Nancy,
CMW,
The Gun Club,
Stiv Bators,
Newcleus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultra Naté,
This Heat,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bizarre Inc.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David Bowie,
Vladislav Delay,
The Saints,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Massinfluence,
Alphaville,
Prince Buster,
The Offenders,
a-ha,
Crime,
Ronnie Foster,
Scan 7,
Bauhaus,
Suicide,
T. Rex,
The Skatalites,
Tears for Fears,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.