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 Colombia and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 American Breed to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Graham Central Station,
Gil Scott Heron,
Glambeats Corp.,
LL Cool J,
Intrusion,
Davy DMX,
Yellowson,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thompson Twins,
New Order,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Infiniti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alice Coltrane,
Rapeman,
F. McDonald,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Electric Prunes,
Wire,
Suburban Knight,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Easy Going,
Flipper,
10cc,
the Fania All-Stars,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Niagra,
Zapp,
Jerry's Kids,
Sexual Harrassment,
Little Man,
Young Marble Giants,
The Velvet Underground,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Walker Brothers,
Aloha Tigers,
Bill Near,
Sister Nancy,
Maleditus Sound,
Groovy Waters,
Bob Dylan,
The Fugs,
Flash Fearless,
The J.B.'s,
Harpers Bizarre,
Schoolly D,
Pole,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bauhaus,
Janne Schatter,
Tomorrow,
ABBA,
Kerri Chandler,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.