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 Mexico and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Houston.
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 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 Quantec to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Henry Cow,
Nick Fraelich,
Ituana,
Cecil Taylor,
Joe Smooth,
The United States of America,
Bang On A Can,
The Monochrome Set,
KRS-One,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bush Tetras,
Newcleus,
World's Most,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Remains,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Anthony Braxton,
Erykah Badu,
Wally Richardson,
The Offenders,
The Buckinghams,
Buzzcocks,
Sun City Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Sister Nancy,
The Dirtbombs,
Dead Boys,
The American Breed,
The Names,
Man Parrish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tears for Fears,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
Harmonia,
Echospace,
The Kinks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
a-ha,
Stiv Bators,
Television,
The Fortunes,
The Moleskins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
H. Thieme,
Thompson Twins,
June Days,
The Searchers,
Wire,
Mr. Review,
Kerrie Biddell,
Icehouse,
Donny Hathaway,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bootsy Collins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Erasure,
Franke,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.