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 Namibia and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Holger Czukay 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 Association to the crunk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Mummies,
The Blackbyrds,
Carl Craig,
Susan Cadogan,
Slave,
Freddie Wadling,
Yazoo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deakin,
The Associates,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Pus,
Harmonia,
Prince Buster,
Alison Limerick,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roger Hodgson,
Goldenarms,
Joe Smooth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jeff Lynne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cluster,
Gong,
The Zeros,
Joyce Sims,
Outsiders,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
China Crisis,
OOIOO,
Rod Modell,
Simply Red,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Martian,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
June Days,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Real Kids,
the Bar-Kays,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gories,
Intrusion,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Q and Not U,
Stereo Dub,
MC5,
Nation of Ulysses,
AZ,
Tom Boy,
Schoolly D,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mandrill,
Max Romeo,
Black Bananas,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.