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 Panama and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Holger Czukay 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 Charles Mingus to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Junior Murvin,
X-Ray Spex,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Searchers,
These Immortal Souls,
Circle Jerks,
Nik Kershaw,
Alice Coltrane,
The Names,
Groovy Waters,
Iggy Pop,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Sheep,
10cc,
The Raincoats,
Little Man,
Soul II Soul,
Symarip,
Pantytec,
Glenn Branca,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Depeche Mode,
David Bowie,
Janne Schatter,
The Victims,
Lebanon Hanover,
Agent Orange,
Adolescents,
The Moleskins,
Magma,
Suburban Knight,
Anakelly,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Idris Muhammad,
Echospace,
Au Pairs,
The Fortunes,
Dave Gahan,
New York Dolls,
Mo-Dettes,
Deepchord,
Unrelated Segments,
Q65,
the Soft Cell,
Intrusion,
Minny Pops,
Can,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Angels of Light,
Average White Band,
The Fuzztones,
Lakeside,
Camouflage,
DJ Sneak,
Brothers Johnson,
Sparks,
The Trojans,
John Coltrane,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.