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 Malta and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Standells to the rap 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Michelle Simonal,
The Wake,
The Music Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
Rod Modell,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scott Walker,
Fluxion,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vainqueur,
Nik Kershaw,
The Victims,
The Cramps,
Jeff Lynne,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare,
Sarah Menescal,
Rekid,
Con Funk Shun,
Carl Craig,
Marshall Jefferson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Monochrome Set,
Magazine,
David Bowie,
John Lydon,
Alton Ellis,
Adolescents,
The Count Five,
Pole,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
A Certain Ratio,
Kayak,
Deepchord,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Faust,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Green,
La Düsseldorf,
Radiohead,
Wolf Eyes,
Negative Approach,
Arthur Verocai,
The Doobie Brothers,
New Age Steppers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mandrill,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Main Source,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yusef Lateef,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bob Dylan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
FM Einheit,
Soulsonic Force,
Youth Brigade,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.