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 Kiribati and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fear to the punk 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Iggy Pop,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Laurel Aitken,
Ituana,
The Moody Blues,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Womack,
L. Decosne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Alison Limerick,
the Sonics,
Interpol,
Eurythmics,
Country Teasers,
Sandy B,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeff Mills,
Toni Rubio,
Crooked Eye,
Stockholm Monsters,
Whodini,
The Trojans,
June of 44,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gabor Szabo,
ABC,
Average White Band,
Scan 7,
8 Eyed Spy,
Y Pants,
Can,
Bobbi Humphrey,
DJ Sneak,
The Durutti Column,
Smog,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Lydon,
Joe Finger,
Duran Duran,
Roy Ayers,
Ultra Naté,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rakim,
Skarface,
Kaleidoscope,
The Invisible,
X-102,
Surgeon,
Lalann,
Icehouse,
The J.B.'s,
June Days,
Vladislav Delay,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.