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 Palau and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marc Almond to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe 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 grime 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Thompson Twins,
The Dirtbombs,
Sugar Minott,
Fat Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Searchers,
The Vogues,
The Star Department,
The Buckinghams,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Goldenarms,
The Dead C,
The Gladiators,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Icehouse,
Blossom Toes,
Oneida,
Kerri Chandler,
Cluster,
The Monks,
Zero Boys,
Quadrant,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Coltrane,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Sherman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rod Modell,
The Real Kids,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Von Mondo,
John Lydon,
Shuggie Otis,
Man Parrish,
The Fuzztones,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Trumans Water,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nick Fraelich,
Accadde A,
Adolescents,
Tropical Tobacco,
Easy Going,
cv313,
The Index,
The Busters,
Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Young Rascals,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Slits,
Cybotron,
Angry Samoans,
Gong,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Leaves,
The Fugs,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.