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 Libya and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the rap 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Spoonie Gee,
a-ha,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Moss Icon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Trojans,
Franke,
Fad Gadget,
The Smiths,
Q and Not U,
the Swans,
Rites of Spring,
Scan 7,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rekid,
Niagra,
Severed Heads,
Surgeon,
Sex Pistols,
the Association,
Swans,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
The Skatalites,
Kool Moe Dee,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott Heron,
Peter & Gordon,
Toni Rubio,
The Slits,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dead Boys,
Max Romeo,
Tommy Roe,
The American Breed,
Bill Wells,
Neil Young,
Camberwell Now,
The Human League,
Brass Construction,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fall,
The Wake,
Main Source,
Fat Boys,
Liliput,
Scion,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tres Demented,
Colin Newman,
Funky Four + One,
Sixth Finger,
Fluxion,
Sister Nancy,
New Order,
The Martian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.