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 El Salvador and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb 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 DJ Style to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lightning Bolt,
Crooked Eye,
Pussy Galore,
Al Stewart,
Chris Corsano,
Bush Tetras,
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Organ,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eddi Front,
Los Fastidios,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Moebius,
Harpers Bizarre,
Royal Trux,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tom Boy,
Kaleidoscope,
Agent Orange,
Wasted Youth,
Malaria!,
Panda Bear,
Alison Limerick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
AZ,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Outsiders,
Sun Ra,
Althea and Donna,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Slits,
Yusef Lateef,
Hashim,
Yellowson,
Pylon,
Pulsallama,
Altered Images,
Ornette Coleman,
John Cale,
LL Cool J,
The Wake,
The Beau Brummels,
Surgeon,
Robert Wyatt,
Swell Maps,
B.T. Express,
Laurel Aitken,
Joensuu 1685,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skaos,
Bootsy Collins,
Liliput,
Saccharine Trust,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Toasters,
Excepter,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.