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 Vanuatu and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
The Leaves,
Magma,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hot Snakes,
Lightning Bolt,
Kevin Saunderson,
DJ Style,
Duran Duran,
Royal Trux,
Marc Almond,
Radiohead,
Simply Red,
Eric B and Rakim,
kango's stein massive,
Hasil Adkins,
The Vogues,
Tom Boy,
PIL,
The Dead C,
Minny Pops,
Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Half Japanese,
Sex Pistols,
Magazine,
Morten Harket,
the Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faraquet,
Cheater Slicks,
Jandek,
Stereo Dub,
The Martian,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Kinks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Pus,
The Trojans,
Cal Tjader,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marine Girls,
The Busters,
Alison Limerick,
Ultra Naté,
Newcleus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sarah Menescal,
The Fuzztones,
Prince Buster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Matthew Halsall,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Divine Comedy,
Erykah Badu,
Iggy Pop,
Todd Rundgren,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Index,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.