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 Qatar and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sister Nancy to the disco 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Görl,
Bronski Beat,
The Vogues,
Ten City,
Moby Grape,
Eve St. Jones,
The Moleskins,
Arthur Verocai,
Angry Samoans,
The Knickerbockers,
Dead Boys,
Mantronix,
Boz Scaggs,
The Angels of Light,
The Count Five,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Techniques,
Gang Green,
Minor Threat,
The New Christs,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Tommy Roe,
These Immortal Souls,
Scientists,
Rekid,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Misunderstood,
Slave,
Lou Reed,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Raincoats,
Surgeon,
The Fuzztones,
Average White Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Black Dice,
Soft Machine,
Magma,
Interpol,
Clear Light,
the Normal,
John Coltrane,
The Human League,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Livin' Joy,
Liliput,
John Lydon,
The Beau Brummels,
Roy Ayers,
Colin Newman,
MDC,
The Monochrome Set,
Cheater Slicks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Index,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.