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 Guinea-Bissau and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Index to the grunge 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Blossom Toes,
Wire,
The Durutti Column,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Womack,
The Martian,
Royal Trux,
John Foxx,
Camberwell Now,
the Association,
The Fugs,
Bluetip,
The Cramps,
Wally Richardson,
Susan Cadogan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lee Hazlewood,
La Düsseldorf,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yellowson,
Lindisfarne,
Michelle Simonal,
Scion,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Lydon,
Funkadelic,
Soft Machine,
Slick Rick,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
K-Klass,
Rhythm & Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Duran Duran,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra,
New York Dolls,
Rakim,
Darondo,
The New Christs,
The Birthday Party,
The Mummies,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Loose Ends,
The Detroit Cobras,
Anakelly,
Buzzcocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Von Mondo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rotary Connection,
Roger Hodgson,
Newcleus,
MC5,
James White and The Blacks,
Marmalade,
Alice Coltrane,
Ossler,
Bauhaus,
David McCallum,
Eric Copeland,
Yazoo,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.