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 Japan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sex Pistols to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skriet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
John Holt,
Aaron Thompson,
Prince Buster,
Wally Richardson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Sound,
Sun Ra,
The Index,
John Lydon,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang of Four,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Loose Ends,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Eric B and Rakim,
MDC,
Robert Hood,
The Five Americans,
X-Ray Spex,
Warsaw,
Ten City,
Bobby Womack,
Depeche Mode,
Piero Umiliani,
Tim Buckley,
The Skatalites,
Technova,
Crime,
Barclay James Harvest,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smiths,
Soulsonic Force,
Franke,
The Martian,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Guru Guru,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
Suicide,
The Moody Blues,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Byrd,
Goldenarms,
Pet Shop Boys,
DJ Sneak,
Deepchord,
Dawn Penn,
Brick,
Man Parrish,
Ohio Players,
New Order,
Heaven 17,
Pantytec,
Au Pairs,
Chris Corsano,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.