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 Mozambique and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes 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 Traffic Nightmare to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arthur Verocai,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ohio Players,
Schoolly D,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lightning Bolt,
New Age Steppers,
Main Source,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Index,
Au Pairs,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Gladiators,
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lungfish,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Echospace,
David Bowie,
Black Flag,
The Last Poets,
Liliput,
Lyres,
Brick,
Alphaville,
Buzzcocks,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gichy Dan,
The Gories,
Bobby Sherman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Black Dice,
Susan Cadogan,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Clarke,
Tommy Roe,
Jandek,
Icehouse,
Ten City,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Qualms,
48th St. Collective,
Albert Ayler,
Television,
Brothers Johnson,
The Stooges,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Five Americans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Banda Bassotti,
Panda Bear,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.