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 Paraguay and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a snare 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 rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
The Barracudas,
the Soft Cell,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thompson Twins,
The Residents,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Y Pants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Interpol,
The Standells,
Quadrant,
Roxette,
Soul II Soul,
Adolescents,
The Leaves,
Visage,
MC5,
Kenny Larkin,
Wings,
Scott Walker,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Symarip,
Rites of Spring,
Ohio Players,
Connie Case,
Reuben Wilson,
The Techniques,
The Busters,
Boz Scaggs,
Crooked Eye,
Altered Images,
Pantytec,
U.S. Maple,
The Gladiators,
The Index,
Alice Coltrane,
Clear Light,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare,
Mission of Burma,
ABBA,
PIL,
June of 44,
D'Angelo,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Can,
Kerri Chandler,
The Vogues,
Mo-Dettes,
Television Personalities,
Mars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bill Wells,
Chris & Cosey,
Brass Construction,
James White and The Blacks,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.