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 Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sarah Menescal to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Dawn Penn,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Star Department,
Eli Mardock,
Don Cherry,
Quando Quango,
Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Howard Jones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Loose Ends,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Can,
The Kinks,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Parrish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Byrd,
Aswad,
Althea and Donna,
ABC,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fire Engines,
LL Cool J,
Hashim,
The Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Lydon,
Michelle Simonal,
Accadde A,
Sun City Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Move,
Rosa Yemen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Model 500,
Suicide,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hardrive,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nico,
MC5,
Cal Tjader,
Arab on Radar,
Arthur Verocai,
R.M.O.,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eden Ahbez,
Yaz,
David Axelrod,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pole,
Ken Boothe,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.