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 Egypt and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1984 at the first Arcadia 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 Sad Lovers and Giants 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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soulsonic Force,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hoover,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers,
Thompson Twins,
Scientists,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stiv Bators,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Laurel Aitken,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Carl Craig,
Theoretical Girls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smoke,
Wasted Youth,
Black Bananas,
The Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Tres Demented,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun City Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The United States of America,
Sound Behaviour,
Suicide,
Eve St. Jones,
The Tremeloes,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Vogues,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Young Marble Giants,
Cecil Taylor,
X-Ray Spex,
Donny Hathaway,
Q and Not U,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Barry Ungar,
Symarip,
Gang of Four,
Andrew Hill,
Technova,
Harry Pussy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Main Source,
Charles Mingus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Selecter,
Au Pairs,
The Mojo Men,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.