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 Hungary and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet 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 Kurtis Blow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Johnny Clarke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arcadia,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Beau Brummels,
Babytalk,
Colin Newman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Searchers,
Easy Going,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Trojans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rekid,
Rhythm & Sound,
David Bowie,
Jawbox,
Erasure,
Dual Sessions,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Schoolly D,
Neil Young,
The Cowsills,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Los Fastidios,
Bill Wells,
Rotary Connection,
The Moody Blues,
Sight & Sound,
Prince Buster,
Ronnie Foster,
David Axelrod,
This Heat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
David McCallum,
Junior Murvin,
Joy Division,
Angry Samoans,
AZ,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
10cc,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shoche,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Toni Rubio,
Tommy Roe,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skarface,
Mission of Burma,
The Black Dice,
Sparks,
Wings,
Ultravox,
the Fania All-Stars,
Main Source,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.