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 Serbia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar 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 Porter Ricks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Wasted Youth,
ABBA,
Fela Kuti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Carl Craig,
Blancmange,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marc Almond,
Livin' Joy,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
the Bar-Kays,
Jesper Dahlback,
Erasure,
Half Japanese,
Donny Hathaway,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Andrew Hill,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minor Threat,
The Gories,
Mary Jane Girls,
Magazine,
Sugar Minott,
Electric Prunes,
Babytalk,
Eden Ahbez,
The Victims,
The Dirtbombs,
PIL,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hardrive,
Gang of Four,
Scrapy,
The Fire Engines,
The Sound,
Rapeman,
Stereo Dub,
Mark Hollis,
June Days,
Crooked Eye,
Deadbeat,
Janne Schatter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Index,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Mummies,
Shoche,
Cecil Taylor,
Moss Icon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deakin,
Newcleus,
The Toasters,
Franke,
Robert Wyatt,
Sex Pistols,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.