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 Belarus and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Second Layer to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Marshall Jefferson,
Terry Callier,
Mary Jane Girls,
Morten Harket,
Rekid,
Easy Going,
Bobby Byrd,
Marine Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Harry Pussy,
Livin' Joy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Busters,
The Walker Brothers,
Aloha Tigers,
Graham Central Station,
Scott Walker,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Green,
Wally Richardson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
Can,
The Sonics,
Country Teasers,
R.M.O.,
Urselle,
In Retrospect,
Sparks,
Bill Near,
JFA,
Spandau Ballet,
Schoolly D,
Index,
Deakin,
New Order,
Bluetip,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Panda Bear,
Robert Wyatt,
FM Einheit,
Jandek,
Hot Snakes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Kinks,
Echospace,
Cecil Taylor,
The Invisible,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Görl,
David Axelrod,
Peter and Kerry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.