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 Saudi Arabia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer 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 Mummies to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joe Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deepchord,
Ultravox,
Lou Christie,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gun Club,
Rakim,
Black Flag,
Mo-Dettes,
Piero Umiliani,
X-Ray Spex,
Tropical Tobacco,
Neu!,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nirvana,
Johnny Osbourne,
Heaven 17,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Maleditus Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Brand Nubian,
DJ Sneak,
EPMD,
PIL,
Unrelated Segments,
Blake Baxter,
Massinfluence,
Delta 5,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
AZ,
Lindisfarne,
Trumans Water,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Slackers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blossom Toes,
The J.B.'s,
The United States of America,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Misunderstood,
Laurel Aitken,
DNA,
Arthur Verocai,
Bang On A Can,
Todd Terry,
Basic Channel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eve St. Jones,
Quando Quango,
Davy DMX,
Wasted Youth,
The Fortunes,
Deakin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crime,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wire,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.