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 Georgia and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
F. McDonald,
Malaria!,
Stiv Bators,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Au Pairs,
Tres Demented,
Scratch Acid,
Dennis Brown,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Little Man,
a-ha,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Byrd,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gang Green,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gregory Isaacs,
Excepter,
Roxette,
Liliput,
Bill Wells,
Lindisfarne,
John Lydon,
Gong,
Tim Buckley,
In Retrospect,
Masters at Work,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sarah Menescal,
Todd Terry,
Von Mondo,
Cymande,
Agent Orange,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moss Icon,
Hashim,
Pantytec,
Kurtis Blow,
Altered Images,
Half Japanese,
Archie Shepp,
Goldenarms,
Peter & Gordon,
Audionom,
Aaron Thompson,
The Doors,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ronan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Model 500,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Massinfluence,
DNA,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Vogues,
The Slits,
Glambeats Corp.,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.