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 Cameroon and from Johannesburg.
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 New York and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Grauzone to the electroclash 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
John Lydon,
Ice-T,
DJ Sneak,
Loose Ends,
Mad Mike,
Cameo,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Slits,
Lucky Dragons,
Curtis Mayfield,
Derrick May,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Porter Ricks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tubeway Army,
Tim Buckley,
Roxy Music,
The Flesh Eaters,
Prince Buster,
Brick,
Black Sheep,
Henry Cow,
The Motions,
Harry Pussy,
Barbara Tucker,
Nils Olav,
Anakelly,
K-Klass,
Maurizio,
U.S. Maple,
PIL,
Aural Exciters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Niagra,
EPMD,
Robert Hood,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quando Quango,
Funkadelic,
The Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pierre Henry,
Moss Icon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bill Wells,
The American Breed,
Throbbing Gristle,
E-Dancer,
Radiohead,
Amazonics,
The Doobie Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Swans,
Can,
Marmalade,
Nik Kershaw,
Albert Ayler,
Delta 5,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Electric Prunes,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.