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 China and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 New York and Shanghai.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Selecter,
Skaos,
The Fugs,
Jeff Lynne,
Cecil Taylor,
Lakeside,
Franke,
ABBA,
Lalann,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gories,
Colin Newman,
Mars,
Fluxion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids,
Sandy B,
Archie Shepp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Neil Young,
Model 500,
Slick Rick,
Sällskapet,
Visage,
The Divine Comedy,
Dennis Brown,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deadbeat,
Saccharine Trust,
Guru Guru,
X-101,
Oblivians,
Chris & Cosey,
Lyres,
Gabor Szabo,
Sound Behaviour,
Funky Four + One,
The Moody Blues,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cowsills,
Danielle Patucci,
Dawn Penn,
Tres Demented,
Niagra,
Patti Smith,
Wings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fatback Band,
Minor Threat,
EPMD,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barrington Levy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.