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 Uzbekistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ultra Naté to the electroclash 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Searchers,
Minny Pops,
The Slits,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Reagan Youth,
Sparks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stetsasonic,
Spandau Ballet,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Buzzcocks,
The Saints,
48th St. Collective,
Icehouse,
Sällskapet,
LL Cool J,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harmonia,
June of 44,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter and Kerry,
Pierre Henry,
David Axelrod,
Tears for Fears,
La Düsseldorf,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bob Dylan,
Heaven 17,
D'Angelo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Piero Umiliani,
Duran Duran,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-102,
Dave Gahan,
Al Stewart,
Agent Orange,
Sound Behaviour,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moss Icon,
The Vogues,
Television Personalities,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chrome,
Shuggie Otis,
The Motions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bill Wells,
kango's stein massive,
Don Cherry,
Radiohead,
Derrick Morgan,
The Dead C,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.