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 Uganda and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum 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 Ronan to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Ultra Naté,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fear,
Moss Icon,
The Busters,
The Gun Club,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Flesh Eaters,
Man Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
Sister Nancy,
John Cale,
Gabor Szabo,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Human League,
Howard Jones,
Arab on Radar,
Metal Thangz,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
The Slackers,
Sight & Sound,
Aural Exciters,
Skriet,
Andrew Hill,
Sixth Finger,
Bill Near,
Neu!,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Foxx,
Suburban Knight,
The Cowsills,
New York Dolls,
Surgeon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alphaville,
Soul II Soul,
Infiniti,
Scientists,
The Names,
Marvin Gaye,
Cal Tjader,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed,
Todd Terry,
the Germs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grauzone,
The Smiths,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Agent Orange,
Loose Ends,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalann,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hashim,
Colin Newman,
The Human League,
The Pretty Things,
The Fire Engines,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.