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 Philippines and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar 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 Mandrill to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
The Red Krayola,
Panda Bear,
Audionom,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marc Almond,
Sandy B,
Section 25,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cluster,
10cc,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Mojo Men,
Visage,
Scan 7,
Boogie Down Productions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Josef K,
Joey Negro,
Spandau Ballet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Au Pairs,
Hashim,
Black Moon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eli Mardock,
Yellowson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brothers Johnson,
X-Ray Spex,
Altered Images,
Leonard Cohen,
Fluxion,
Can,
L. Decosne,
Kevin Saunderson,
Subhumans,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Sheep,
Jacob Miller,
Cybotron,
Inner City,
Boredoms,
Nation of Ulysses,
Surgeon,
Jeff Mills,
T. Rex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ken Boothe,
Excepter,
The J.B.'s,
Davy DMX,
Quantec,
Matthew Bourne,
The Walker Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
Ronan,
Flash Fearless,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.