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 Panama and from Woodstock.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
U.S. Maple,
Aloha Tigers,
Sun Ra,
Hasil Adkins,
Janne Schatter,
Rod Modell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pere Ubu,
Anakelly,
Magazine,
Alphaville,
The Gladiators,
Gang of Four,
Subhumans,
The Saints,
David Bowie,
Amon Düül,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Technova,
Sparks,
The Fire Engines,
Tom Boy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skarface,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Walker Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
Boredoms,
Kaleidoscope,
Massinfluence,
Radio Birdman,
Susan Cadogan,
The Moleskins,
Todd Rundgren,
One Last Wish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barrington Levy,
Peter and Kerry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dead Boys,
The Music Machine,
Kas Product,
The United States of America,
48th St. Collective,
Rotary Connection,
The Vogues,
Faust,
Letta Mbulu,
Parry Music,
Erasure,
Guru Guru,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Echospace,
New York Dolls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ludus,
Harmonia,
Sandy B,
Fad Gadget,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Names,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.