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 Uzbekistan and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Dawn Penn to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
F. McDonald,
The Dirtbombs,
Motorama,
Lindisfarne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Byron Stingily,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tears for Fears,
Andrew Hill,
Whodini,
The Monks,
Sugar Minott,
Bad Manners,
Skarface,
World's Most,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
FM Einheit,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aloha Tigers,
Rotary Connection,
Half Japanese,
the Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Slits,
Soul Sonic Force,
Altered Images,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Remains,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Siglo XX,
Rakim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Das Ding,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donny Hathaway,
The Gories,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Q and Not U,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sonic Youth,
The Raincoats,
Outsiders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Blackbyrds,
Tommy Roe,
Subhumans,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Human League,
John Holt,
Royal Trux,
James White and The Blacks,
Chrome,
L. Decosne,
Slave,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Derrick May,
Magma,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.