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 Kenya and from London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 linndrum 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 Harpers Bizarre to the crunk 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alphaville,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Hood,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tears for Fears,
Junior Murvin,
Jacob Miller,
Harry Pussy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gories,
Von Mondo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brand Nubian,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dead Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Talk Talk,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dead C,
The Pop Group,
Soul II Soul,
Frankie Knuckles,
Saccharine Trust,
Carl Craig,
Inner City,
The J.B.'s,
Kas Product,
Swell Maps,
Minutemen,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ultravox,
Anakelly,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dirtbombs,
Bronski Beat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Popol Vuh,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Traffic Nightmare,
The Selecter,
Skaos,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bob Dylan,
The Human League,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Television,
Grey Daturas,
Byron Stingily,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Real Kids,
The Music Machine,
The Sound,
Excepter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Half Japanese,
Country Teasers,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.