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 Gabon and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mad Mike to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Bush Tetras,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Roxette,
Black Pus,
Grey Daturas,
DNA,
Monks,
Anthony Braxton,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slits,
New Age Steppers,
Kerri Chandler,
Negative Approach,
Harry Pussy,
Erasure,
Public Image Ltd.,
Q and Not U,
The Knickerbockers,
Derrick Morgan,
Shoche,
The Dirtbombs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Skatalites,
Tomorrow,
Smog,
Wire,
Icehouse,
Stereo Dub,
Von Mondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
The Last Poets,
Pulsallama,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dual Sessions,
Liliput,
Sällskapet,
Parry Music,
Al Stewart,
The Doobie Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Intrusion,
China Crisis,
Electric Prunes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gabor Szabo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alice Coltrane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Moleskins,
Cluster,
Sugar Minott,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.