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 El Salvador and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Darondo to the techno 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
Gerry Rafferty,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deakin,
The Happenings,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tres Demented,
The J.B.'s,
Roxy Music,
the Association,
Nils Olav,
Sparks,
The Wake,
Freddie Wadling,
Procol Harum,
Severed Heads,
Black Bananas,
Slave,
The Leaves,
Johnny Clarke,
Kenny Larkin,
Monks,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Mojo Men,
John Foxx,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Faust,
New Age Steppers,
Camberwell Now,
Excepter,
Don Cherry,
Hasil Adkins,
Vainqueur,
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mad Mike,
Scratch Acid,
Theoretical Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Althea and Donna,
Skriet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Grass Roots,
The Neon Judgement,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ludus,
10cc,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Zero Boys,
Quadrant,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
8 Eyed Spy,
Todd Terry,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.