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 Costa Rica and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Michael McDonald 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 Wasted Youth to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Youth Brigade,
Smog,
Graham Central Station,
The Angels of Light,
Cymande,
The Fall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Mills,
The Busters,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Barracudas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Funkadelic,
Rakim,
Warsaw,
Masters at Work,
KRS-One,
The Count Five,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jandek,
Clear Light,
The Fugs,
Matthew Halsall,
Ken Boothe,
Q and Not U,
Hardrive,
The Divine Comedy,
Deakin,
John Cale,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smiths,
Brothers Johnson,
Franke,
The Dead C,
B.T. Express,
The Residents,
the Normal,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sex Pistols,
Cluster,
The Last Poets,
Fluxion,
Joe Smooth,
H. Thieme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soft Machine,
Grey Daturas,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Byron Stingily,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang Starr,
UT,
Thompson Twins,
Joensuu 1685,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sun City Girls,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.