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 Mali and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Radio Birdman to the grime 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Wasted Youth,
Lungfish,
Echospace,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Christie,
Idris Muhammad,
The Golliwogs,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jerry's Kids,
Stetsasonic,
Roxy Music,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eurythmics,
David Bowie,
Slick Rick,
Nils Olav,
The Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wire,
Maleditus Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Offenders,
Reagan Youth,
Saccharine Trust,
the Slits,
Simply Red,
The Real Kids,
ABBA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lalo Schifrin,
Y Pants,
The Young Rascals,
Severed Heads,
Negative Approach,
Television Personalities,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Eli Mardock,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minor Threat,
Neu!,
Ornette Coleman,
Slave,
One Last Wish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Cell,
Smog,
James White and The Blacks,
Niagra,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marvin Gaye,
Pagans,
MC5,
Los Fastidios,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scion,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.