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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the electroclash 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
The Names,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Blackbyrds,
Black Sheep,
ABBA,
The Angels of Light,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Bourne,
Ten City,
New York Dolls,
D'Angelo,
Royal Trux,
The Stooges,
The Seeds,
Bill Wells,
Juan Atkins,
Charles Mingus,
Sun Ra,
The J.B.'s,
Tears for Fears,
The Doobie Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Soulsonic Force,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dead C,
Radiohead,
John Holt,
The Cure,
Harry Pussy,
Sixth Finger,
Visage,
Icehouse,
Moby Grape,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lungfish,
Deepchord,
Dawn Penn,
Qualms,
Chris & Cosey,
The Searchers,
Slave,
Radio Birdman,
R.M.O.,
a-ha,
the Bar-Kays,
Desert Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Music Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
Alice Coltrane,
Crash Course in Science,
The Victims,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.