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 South Africa and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Ohio Players 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kayak,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultravox,
Agent Orange,
Brothers Johnson,
The Buckinghams,
Trumans Water,
The Skatalites,
Black Moon,
Stetsasonic,
Jeff Lynne,
Connie Case,
The Walker Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Tremeloes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sparks,
Quando Quango,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Black Bananas,
Thee Headcoats,
Public Image Ltd.,
Suicide,
Loose Ends,
Ponytail,
Little Man,
the Germs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Minor Threat,
T. Rex,
The Grass Roots,
The Five Americans,
Cymande,
Soul Sonic Force,
Davy DMX,
Joey Negro,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liliput,
Harmonia,
The Mojo Men,
MDC,
Cluster,
One Last Wish,
Chris & Cosey,
Y Pants,
Pharoah Sanders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Newcleus,
Faust,
Hashim,
The Selecter,
The Black Dice,
This Heat,
Marc Almond,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lower 48,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.