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 Tanzania and from Beijing.
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 Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Negative Approach to the crunk 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Dennis Brown,
The Durutti Column,
Cameo,
The Mojo Men,
Scion,
Bush Tetras,
Harmonia,
John Coltrane,
Fad Gadget,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
Reagan Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kayak,
Gregory Isaacs,
Liliput,
Visage,
Dark Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
Boz Scaggs,
Funky Four + One,
U.S. Maple,
Sonic Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
Davy DMX,
Ultimate Spinach,
China Crisis,
Jacques Brel,
Matthew Halsall,
The New Christs,
Alison Limerick,
Von Mondo,
Dead Boys,
The Golliwogs,
Rapeman,
Tubeway Army,
Unwound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ultravox,
The Five Americans,
Crash Course in Science,
Desert Stars,
Minor Threat,
Michelle Simonal,
Tommy Roe,
The Monochrome Set,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mars,
Angry Samoans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Drexciya,
The Walker Brothers,
Fat Boys,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Niagra,
Black Bananas,
Yellowson,
The Last Poets,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.