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 Swaziland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Donald Fagen 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 Underground Resistance to the grime 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Symarip,
The Happenings,
Metal Thangz,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quando Quango,
The Evens,
Max Romeo,
The Smiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
B.T. Express,
Los Fastidios,
The United States of America,
Iggy Pop,
Soul II Soul,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Henry Cow,
Fela Kuti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Isaac Hayes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eli Mardock,
Fat Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
The Star Department,
Jeff Mills,
Alphaville,
Yusef Lateef,
Buzzcocks,
Hot Snakes,
Can,
The Five Americans,
Dark Day,
The Gladiators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Foxx,
Motorama,
The Kinks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Martian,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ituana,
Davy DMX,
Stiv Bators,
Brothers Johnson,
Shuggie Otis,
Kerri Chandler,
Lee Hazlewood,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rufus Thomas,
This Heat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Loose Ends,
Eden Ahbez,
Graham Central Station,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Toni Rubio,
Saccharine Trust,
Niagra,
Gang of Four,
Gang Starr,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.