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 Russia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 X-Ray Spex to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
In Retrospect,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Unwound,
The Slits,
Excepter,
Faraquet,
Accadde A,
World's Most,
Neu!,
Swell Maps,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Grass Roots,
Maurizio,
The Knickerbockers,
The Red Krayola,
The Moody Blues,
CMW,
Dead Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Boz Scaggs,
Alton Ellis,
John Cale,
Alphaville,
Connie Case,
Janne Schatter,
ABBA,
Deadbeat,
Eli Mardock,
Arcadia,
Franke,
Pharoah Sanders,
Agitation Free,
Marc Almond,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hashim,
Japan,
Tom Boy,
Brass Construction,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Music Machine,
The Monks,
Easy Going,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Durutti Column,
Saccharine Trust,
New Age Steppers,
The Skatalites,
L. Decosne,
Crooked Eye,
Prince Buster,
Eden Ahbez,
Simply Red,
Ken Boothe,
Dual Sessions,
Wire,
Graham Central Station,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.