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 Colombia and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Jeff Lynne,
Mo-Dettes,
Inner City,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brand Nubian,
Procol Harum,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Halsall,
Camouflage,
Main Source,
Mission of Burma,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Young Rascals,
Pagans,
Stetsasonic,
Radio Birdman,
Erasure,
Lalann,
Kerri Chandler,
Man Parrish,
Nirvana,
Black Pus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soft Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Monks,
Ice-T,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
B.T. Express,
Alphaville,
Mantronix,
Minnie Riperton,
Livin' Joy,
John Holt,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
48th St. Collective,
David Bowie,
Can,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lucky Dragons,
Crime,
Severed Heads,
Interpol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
One Last Wish,
Intrusion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
EPMD,
Lower 48,
John Cale,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bang On A Can,
The Monochrome Set,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.