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 Iceland and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 Jawbox to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Victims,
Monolake,
Byron Stingily,
Rapeman,
Unwound,
The Techniques,
Suburban Knight,
Suicide,
DJ Style,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Electric Prunes,
Barrington Levy,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cybotron,
Altered Images,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dirtbombs,
Hasil Adkins,
Minutemen,
Marine Girls,
Nico,
B.T. Express,
The Monochrome Set,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bootsy Collins,
Loose Ends,
Anakelly,
Lindisfarne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Boz Scaggs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bauhaus,
The Real Kids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Spandau Ballet,
Sixth Finger,
Stereo Dub,
Dennis Brown,
Deakin,
X-101,
Pet Shop Boys,
David Bowie,
Gichy Dan,
Laurel Aitken,
Marcia Griffiths,
Make Up,
Johnny Osbourne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wasted Youth,
Fat Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Blues Magoos,
Audionom,
Rekid,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The United States of America,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.