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 Tanzania and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 chamberlin 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 American Breed to the grime 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
The Monks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Malaria!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sparks,
Tommy Roe,
The Count Five,
The J.B.'s,
Dawn Penn,
The Moleskins,
Janne Schatter,
Deakin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kaleidoscope,
Echospace,
Amazonics,
Kenny Larkin,
Spandau Ballet,
Procol Harum,
The Real Kids,
The Buckinghams,
FM Einheit,
Alison Limerick,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang of Four,
The Smiths,
Soul II Soul,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Television,
Brick,
Moebius,
The Cramps,
Mary Jane Girls,
Second Layer,
Arab on Radar,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Invisible,
In Retrospect,
Deepchord,
The Walker Brothers,
Intrusion,
Iggy Pop,
Visage,
The Searchers,
Quantec,
Colin Newman,
Black Pus,
Danielle Patucci,
John Cale,
L. Decosne,
the Bar-Kays,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Qualms,
Scan 7,
Man Eating Sloth,
Simply Red,
The Blues Magoos,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.