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 Sweden and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare 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 Reagan Youth to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joy Division,
The Real Kids,
The J.B.'s,
Pantytec,
Masters at Work,
Janne Schatter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swell Maps,
One Last Wish,
Visage,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Zero Boys,
Model 500,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Erasure,
T.S.O.L.,
The Techniques,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bill Near,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Althea and Donna,
Harmonia,
Mark Hollis,
Buzzcocks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Archie Shepp,
Brothers Johnson,
Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mantronix,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scientists,
Reagan Youth,
Deadbeat,
The Fugs,
EPMD,
Prince Buster,
The Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Simply Red,
Gang Starr,
Clear Light,
Camberwell Now,
June Days,
David Axelrod,
The Evens,
Quadrant,
Moebius,
Hoover,
Marmalade,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.