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 Mauritius and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 Silicon Teens to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Cluster,
Monolake,
Can,
Faust,
Make Up,
Donny Hathaway,
Oneida,
Lalann,
Steve Hackett,
Isaac Hayes,
Tom Boy,
Slave,
Bluetip,
Babytalk,
Crispy Ambulance,
Second Layer,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sixth Finger,
the Germs,
Youth Brigade,
Surgeon,
Bauhaus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Carl Craig,
Stetsasonic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Normal,
Barrington Levy,
Rites of Spring,
The Blackbyrds,
Robert Hood,
Jeff Lynne,
Drive Like Jehu,
June Days,
Bill Near,
Morten Harket,
Porter Ricks,
Quando Quango,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Zeros,
The Slits,
Animal Collective,
Neil Young,
Yaz,
Monks,
La Düsseldorf,
Brothers Johnson,
The Neon Judgement,
Derrick Morgan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Essential Logic,
Eric Dolphy,
Agent Orange,
Little Man,
Rhythm & Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.