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 Lesotho and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer 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 Barrington Levy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
The J.B.'s,
The Evens,
Camberwell Now,
Big Daddy Kane,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Cheater Slicks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lucky Dragons,
The Neon Judgement,
Andrew Hill,
Index,
The Grass Roots,
Marc Almond,
Pere Ubu,
Scott Walker,
Sound Behaviour,
Pagans,
Gregory Isaacs,
The New Christs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Aaron Thompson,
Eurythmics,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter & Gordon,
Brothers Johnson,
Pole,
The American Breed,
Nik Kershaw,
Jacques Brel,
Von Mondo,
The Gun Club,
Henry Cow,
The Doors,
Soulsonic Force,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rotary Connection,
Scratch Acid,
Morten Harket,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare,
Kas Product,
Colin Newman,
Los Fastidios,
Half Japanese,
Barbara Tucker,
Eric Dolphy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scan 7,
Yazoo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Silicon Teens,
Ludus,
Ronan,
A Certain Ratio,
The Sound,
Excepter,
Underground Resistance,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Wells,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.