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 Gambia and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 The Index to the electroclash 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Slits,
Mantronix,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
New York Dolls,
The Misunderstood,
The Blackbyrds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Electric Prunes,
Ten City,
Easy Going,
Davy DMX,
Angry Samoans,
Pere Ubu,
Oblivians,
Excepter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Derrick May,
Frankie Knuckles,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Liliput,
Severed Heads,
The Star Department,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ludus,
Sällskapet,
Alphaville,
Sex Pistols,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Sheep,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dirtbombs,
Agent Orange,
Barclay James Harvest,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cecil Taylor,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ituana,
Jeru the Damaja,
Idris Muhammad,
Jawbox,
The Young Rascals,
ABBA,
Kerrie Biddell,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bill Near,
Johnny Clarke,
Fad Gadget,
E-Dancer,
The Busters,
Todd Terry,
David McCallum,
Sight & Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mark Hollis,
Lightning Bolt,
Ossler,
Piero Umiliani,
Slave,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.