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 Luxembourg and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
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 organ 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 Howard Jones to the funk 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Excepter,
Fat Boys,
Slick Rick,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fall,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Franke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacques Brel,
Kaleidoscope,
Sällskapet,
OOIOO,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Blossom Toes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camberwell Now,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marine Girls,
Iggy Pop,
The Music Machine,
Arthur Verocai,
The Standells,
The Selecter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Negative Approach,
Glambeats Corp.,
Organ,
A Certain Ratio,
Moby Grape,
Symarip,
Banda Bassotti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nirvana,
Los Fastidios,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cure,
Sam Rivers,
Roxy Music,
Godley & Creme,
The Fortunes,
John Foxx,
Gang Green,
Jesper Dahlback,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Freddie Wadling,
The Alarm Clocks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Agent Orange,
T. Rex,
Joe Finger,
Fugazi,
The Angels of Light,
Essential Logic,
The Toasters,
Main Source,
The Knickerbockers,
Interpol,
Babytalk,
Jeff Mills,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.