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 Uruguay and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Public Image Ltd. to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doors,
The Durutti Column,
Inner City,
Vainqueur,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Swell Maps,
Ken Boothe,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Black Moon,
Deakin,
The Fortunes,
Y Pants,
Main Source,
Accadde A,
Stockholm Monsters,
Malaria!,
Juan Atkins,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kenny Larkin,
Eddi Front,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brand Nubian,
Mark Hollis,
Maleditus Sound,
Archie Shepp,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cure,
Soul Sonic Force,
H. Thieme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Robert Görl,
The Black Dice,
Sam Rivers,
June of 44,
Agent Orange,
Gang Gang Dance,
Depeche Mode,
Bad Manners,
Goldenarms,
The Smoke,
Jerry's Kids,
UT,
This Heat,
Robert Hood,
The Wake,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Easy Going,
Q and Not U,
Soft Cell,
The Gories,
Hot Snakes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tears for Fears,
Reagan Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
Unrelated Segments,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.