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 Lesotho and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 David Axelrod to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Tom Boy,
U.S. Maple,
Bob Dylan,
The Last Poets,
The Evens,
Sex Pistols,
Section 25,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Görl,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fatback Band,
Susan Cadogan,
ABC,
Jawbox,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Copeland,
Hardrive,
Scratch Acid,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Traffic Nightmare,
Monolake,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Lydon,
Mandrill,
Be Bop Deluxe,
La Düsseldorf,
The Real Kids,
Harmonia,
Deakin,
Godley & Creme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Danielle Patucci,
The American Breed,
Pole,
Procol Harum,
D'Angelo,
The Raincoats,
David Bowie,
Flipper,
Thee Headcoats,
Pagans,
Soft Cell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pet Shop Boys,
Duran Duran,
The United States of America,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Warsaw,
the Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Pop Group,
The Searchers,
Graham Central Station,
The Black Dice,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hashim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.