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 Papua New Guinea and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ohio Players to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Basic Channel,
The Invisible,
Masters at Work,
Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
T.S.O.L.,
Pulsallama,
Moby Grape,
Lalann,
Au Pairs,
Nik Kershaw,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stetsasonic,
Dave Gahan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Zapp,
Gang Starr,
The Techniques,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nico,
Soul II Soul,
Nils Olav,
Intrusion,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tommy Roe,
Fela Kuti,
Amon Düül II,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kerri Chandler,
The Monks,
Mars,
Technova,
Aaron Thompson,
The J.B.'s,
Wolf Eyes,
F. McDonald,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stiv Bators,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gap Band,
Neil Young,
Hot Snakes,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joe Finger,
Quando Quango,
The Dirtbombs,
The Zeros,
The Cure,
Black Flag,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Livin' Joy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.