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 Sri Lanka and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 the Swans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Tears for Fears,
The Walker Brothers,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Certain Ratio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wasted Youth,
Vainqueur,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marine Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Moody Blues,
10cc,
Siglo XX,
Sex Pistols,
Brand Nubian,
The Associates,
The Last Poets,
Rapeman,
Fugazi,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Holt,
Pantytec,
Robert Hood,
FM Einheit,
Archie Shepp,
Ronan,
Lower 48,
The Slackers,
Parry Music,
OOIOO,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Names,
Silicon Teens,
Letta Mbulu,
Can,
T. Rex,
Blossom Toes,
Saccharine Trust,
Das Ding,
Sparks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aural Exciters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Move,
Zapp,
The Beau Brummels,
Y Pants,
Cymande,
Underground Resistance,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gichy Dan,
the Association,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Swans,
Lungfish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.