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 Korea North and from Spokane.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 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 Neu! to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Lucky Dragons,
Agent Orange,
Mad Mike,
8 Eyed Spy,
Erasure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marine Girls,
Section 25,
Ultra Naté,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Barracudas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Quando Quango,
Mo-Dettes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Icehouse,
Funky Four + One,
Wolf Eyes,
The Moody Blues,
James White and The Blacks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Severed Heads,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Niagra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Barry Ungar,
Darondo,
OOIOO,
Donny Hathaway,
Harmonia,
The Saints,
Mark Hollis,
Brass Construction,
Camberwell Now,
Faust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Foxx,
Heaven 17,
David McCallum,
Boz Scaggs,
Warsaw,
The Cure,
48th St. Collective,
X-Ray Spex,
The Smoke,
the Association,
Underground Resistance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tom Boy,
Aural Exciters,
Spandau Ballet,
The Velvet Underground,
Slick Rick,
Swell Maps,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.