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 Switzerland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Essential Logic to the grime 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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Supertramp,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Happenings,
Liliput,
H. Thieme,
Pole,
Joey Negro,
Sixth Finger,
Donny Hathaway,
Bootsy Collins,
Matthew Halsall,
Chrome,
The Kinks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nik Kershaw,
Brass Construction,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Hot Snakes,
The Busters,
Royal Trux,
Angry Samoans,
Mad Mike,
Simply Red,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Animal Collective,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eric Copeland,
Josef K,
8 Eyed Spy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rod Modell,
John Holt,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skriet,
Interpol,
Jerry's Kids,
U.S. Maple,
Franke,
Moebius,
Iggy Pop,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
The Pretty Things,
Rotary Connection,
Lyres,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Second Layer,
Subhumans,
Kurtis Blow,
Reagan Youth,
The United States of America,
Janne Schatter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kas Product,
Patti Smith,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Bourne,
Reuben Wilson,
Massinfluence,
Marmalade,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.