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 Bahamas and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Aswad to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
R.M.O.,
Lightning Bolt,
Pierre Henry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kurtis Blow,
Wasted Youth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Patti Smith,
Yaz,
T. Rex,
Skaos,
Grey Daturas,
Jesper Dahlback,
LL Cool J,
Franke,
Sex Pistols,
Sugar Minott,
Depeche Mode,
Smog,
Fat Boys,
Y Pants,
Tubeway Army,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Litter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Zero Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monochrome Set,
Groovy Waters,
Panda Bear,
The Smiths,
Boredoms,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
a-ha,
Amon Düül II,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DNA,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cecil Taylor,
Shuggie Otis,
The Blues Magoos,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Saints,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sound,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Yazoo,
Jerry's Kids,
Lalann,
Cluster,
Godley & Creme,
The Victims,
Lou Christie,
Skriet,
Soul Sonic Force,
Joy Division,
Jeru the Damaja,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.