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 Brazil and from Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Arthur Verocai to the rap 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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
the Association,
Agent Orange,
The Divine Comedy,
Warren Ellis,
The Slackers,
Ossler,
Drive Like Jehu,
Spoonie Gee,
Alton Ellis,
Mr. Review,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rakim,
The Selecter,
Nils Olav,
Radiohead,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
AZ,
Delon & Dalcan,
Half Japanese,
Pet Shop Boys,
Guru Guru,
Juan Atkins,
Black Pus,
Steve Hackett,
La Düsseldorf,
Bill Near,
Kaleidoscope,
Marvin Gaye,
Groovy Waters,
Sight & Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
Angry Samoans,
Ohio Players,
Bill Wells,
Gang of Four,
Man Parrish,
Howard Jones,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Porter Ricks,
The Associates,
Stetsasonic,
JFA,
Kas Product,
Quadrant,
The Modern Lovers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gil Scott Heron,
K-Klass,
The Slits,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ituana,
The Gap Band,
DJ Style,
Idris Muhammad,
Aural Exciters,
Hashim,
Smog,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.