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 Antigua and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 oboe 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 A Certain Ratio to the jazz 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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Howard Jones,
Gang Starr,
Cybotron,
The Red Krayola,
Pussy Galore,
Ice-T,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Fraelich,
48th St. Collective,
The Real Kids,
X-101,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Vogues,
Alton Ellis,
Cluster,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dirtbombs,
Bronski Beat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Simply Red,
Depeche Mode,
Pole,
The Sound,
Sight & Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Unwound,
The Last Poets,
Inner City,
Das Ding,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Franke,
Wasted Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
Reagan Youth,
Anthony Braxton,
The Raincoats,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joyce Sims,
EPMD,
the Soft Cell,
Funky Four + One,
Ossler,
Sun Ra,
Soulsonic Force,
Sixth Finger,
Q and Not U,
The Smoke,
Oblivians,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ralphi Rosario,
UT,
Magma,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.