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 Monaco and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mummies to the techno 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fall,
the Germs,
Harry Pussy,
Bill Wells,
Visage,
Aswad,
the Fania All-Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
Nirvana,
This Heat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Television Personalities,
Marvin Gaye,
Simply Red,
Panda Bear,
Connie Case,
The Mummies,
The Gap Band,
Lakeside,
X-102,
Junior Murvin,
Robert Görl,
Trumans Water,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joe Finger,
Joey Negro,
Gang Gang Dance,
In Retrospect,
Alice Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
Rekid,
Prince Buster,
Pagans,
The Knickerbockers,
FM Einheit,
Little Man,
Jacob Miller,
Marine Girls,
Sight & Sound,
John Foxx,
Piero Umiliani,
the Association,
Anthony Braxton,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wire,
The Smiths,
Deakin,
Lucky Dragons,
Zero Boys,
The Dead C,
Ossler,
Aloha Tigers,
48th St. Collective,
China Crisis,
Nas,
Juan Atkins,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.