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 Syria and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nation of Ulysses to the rap 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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Alison Limerick,
Swell Maps,
Cameo,
The Cure,
the Human League,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Newcleus,
the Association,
Rekid,
Sixth Finger,
Scion,
UT,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dorothy Ashby,
Heaven 17,
Ronnie Foster,
The Raincoats,
The Offenders,
X-Ray Spex,
The Buckinghams,
Silicon Teens,
Black Moon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
World's Most,
B.T. Express,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Flag,
Alphaville,
Ohio Players,
Roger Hodgson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pierre Henry,
Second Layer,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Sherman,
Funky Four + One,
Country Teasers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Q and Not U,
Mission of Burma,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Human League,
Ponytail,
Soft Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rites of Spring,
The Smoke,
Reuben Wilson,
Stetsasonic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Quantec,
Outsiders,
Soulsonic Force,
Franke,
Marc Almond,
Angry Samoans,
Aaron Thompson,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.