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 Papua New Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Max Romeo to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Organ,
Funky Four + One,
Freddie Wadling,
Cameo,
Black Pus,
AZ,
The Vogues,
Jeff Lynne,
Goldenarms,
The Monochrome Set,
Roxette,
Andrew Hill,
Accadde A,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lightning Bolt,
Juan Atkins,
Dead Boys,
Black Moon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter and Kerry,
Stetsasonic,
Chris & Cosey,
Lyres,
Godley & Creme,
The Pretty Things,
The Buckinghams,
The Busters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Smoke,
Outsiders,
Surgeon,
Sam Rivers,
Wasted Youth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nico,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Easy Going,
Camouflage,
Young Marble Giants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
This Heat,
Yellowson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Judy Mowatt,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Agitation Free,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rakim,
Lou Christie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Visage,
Roger Hodgson,
New Order,
David Axelrod,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.