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 Azerbaijan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
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 mellotron 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 The United States of America to the rock 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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe 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 funk 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
E-Dancer,
Das Ding,
Von Mondo,
Malaria!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Music Machine,
Grey Daturas,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stereo Dub,
John Foxx,
The Black Dice,
Matthew Bourne,
World's Most,
The Happenings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Index,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gun Club,
X-102,
Rakim,
Soft Machine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Technova,
Iggy Pop,
T. Rex,
Ponytail,
Ronan,
Nik Kershaw,
Whodini,
Metal Thangz,
Piero Umiliani,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Cale,
Althea and Donna,
Niagra,
Scion,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Bananas,
Camouflage,
Joyce Sims,
Junior Murvin,
X-Ray Spex,
Kevin Saunderson,
Suicide,
Black Sheep,
Basic Channel,
David Bowie,
Ken Boothe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Accadde A,
June Days,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Minutemen,
Scratch Acid,
Harmonia,
ABC,
Desert Stars,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barrington Levy,
Hasil Adkins,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.