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 Mongolia and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
The American Breed,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
X-102,
DJ Style,
Carl Craig,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tears for Fears,
Danielle Patucci,
Vladislav Delay,
Deakin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Symarip,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Germs,
Dark Day,
Jawbox,
Skriet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
John Foxx,
Brick,
The Doors,
Arthur Verocai,
The Kinks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Index,
Rites of Spring,
Sandy B,
Boredoms,
B.T. Express,
Q and Not U,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Skatalites,
The Searchers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Remains,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
Dennis Brown,
Spoonie Gee,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Lydon,
Gabor Szabo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Offenders,
T.S.O.L.,
The Zeros,
Monolake,
Cameo,
Negative Approach,
Heaven 17,
Mantronix,
Visage,
Sonny Sharrock,
Electric Prunes,
Glenn Branca,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.