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 Haiti and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Carl Craig to the crunk 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
The Real Kids,
The Slackers,
Wally Richardson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Delta 5,
Newcleus,
Sam Rivers,
Soft Cell,
Surgeon,
Boz Scaggs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultravox,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Bananas,
David Bowie,
Nico,
Prince Buster,
Echospace,
Sparks,
Howard Jones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tim Buckley,
Pantytec,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dave Gahan,
Tubeway Army,
MDC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
the Bar-Kays,
Lungfish,
Quando Quango,
John Cale,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marmalade,
Oblivians,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Basic Channel,
Pussy Galore,
Black Flag,
The New Christs,
Magma,
Andrew Hill,
The Fortunes,
kango's stein massive,
Neu!,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Siglo XX,
The Five Americans,
Ten City,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scan 7,
The Names,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harry Pussy,
Harmonia,
Black Pus,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.