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 Korea North and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 Slick Rick to the rock 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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Iggy Pop,
Quando Quango,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Reagan Youth,
Lalo Schifrin,
10cc,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
James White and The Blacks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultra Naté,
Jacques Brel,
Make Up,
Curtis Mayfield,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cymande,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Pantytec,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Roger Hodgson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Warren Ellis,
Erykah Badu,
The Victims,
Flash Fearless,
Lalann,
Marc Almond,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scientists,
The Misunderstood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scratch Acid,
Lower 48,
Alice Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
T. Rex,
Camberwell Now,
Kayak,
Joey Negro,
Altered Images,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Soulsonic Force,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Chris Corsano,
Faust,
Can,
Jesper Dahlback,
Camouflage,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Magma,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Henry Cow,
Joe Finger,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Malaria!,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Green,
Erasure,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.