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 Qatar and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Happenings to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Erasure,
Jeff Mills,
Pantaleimon,
The Modern Lovers,
Ponytail,
Crooked Eye,
Monolake,
Sandy B,
Smog,
Charles Mingus,
X-102,
Beasts of Bourbon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spoonie Gee,
Matthew Halsall,
Marine Girls,
Yazoo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joy Division,
Bauhaus,
The Gap Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Saccharine Trust,
D'Angelo,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Slackers,
Theoretical Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang of Four,
Terry Callier,
Quadrant,
Hot Snakes,
Minor Threat,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fatback Band,
The Pretty Things,
Pantytec,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mummies,
Kenny Larkin,
Johnny Clarke,
Clear Light,
New Order,
Franke,
The Five Americans,
Sun City Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Avey Tare,
Big Daddy Kane,
Skriet,
The Knickerbockers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
R.M.O.,
Soul II Soul,
Cluster,
Khruangbin,
Moss Icon,
Scan 7,
Skarface,
Robert Görl,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ice-T,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.