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 Jamaica and from New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 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 Red Krayola to the funk 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harry Pussy,
These Immortal Souls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris & Cosey,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
AZ,
The Offenders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Trojans,
Simply Red,
Guru Guru,
Bootsy Collins,
Circle Jerks,
Marine Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Johnny Osbourne,
New York Dolls,
Cheater Slicks,
Motorama,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Johnny Clarke,
The Five Americans,
Reagan Youth,
The Associates,
The Neon Judgement,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Royal Trux,
Flipper,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mummies,
Quando Quango,
Nas,
The Smiths,
Model 500,
Scott Walker,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Names,
Ituana,
Hardrive,
Max Romeo,
Robert Wyatt,
Marmalade,
Tears for Fears,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Leaves,
Tubeway Army,
The Litter,
Joey Negro,
Television,
Lindisfarne,
Masters at Work,
The Moody Blues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Saccharine Trust,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.