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 Equatorial Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mo-Dettes,
Sixth Finger,
Nas,
New Order,
Junior Murvin,
Shoche,
The Human League,
Dennis Brown,
Bill Wells,
Suburban Knight,
Patti Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Sherman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brothers Johnson,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cure,
Whodini,
ABBA,
The Fire Engines,
The Litter,
the Slits,
X-Ray Spex,
Wire,
Qualms,
B.T. Express,
A Certain Ratio,
T.S.O.L.,
Moss Icon,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scrapy,
John Lydon,
The Count Five,
Bronski Beat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eli Mardock,
Crime,
The Star Department,
Banda Bassotti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pulsallama,
Ludus,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Holt,
Little Man,
Cal Tjader,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Idris Muhammad,
Newcleus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mark Hollis,
John Coltrane,
Faraquet,
The Skatalites,
Terrestrial Tones,
ABC,
Roger Hodgson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.