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 Zambia and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lebanon Hanover to the grime 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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gang Starr,
Cluster,
Juan Atkins,
Max Romeo,
H. Thieme,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jacques Brel,
X-102,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Seeds,
Funkadelic,
Mars,
Blossom Toes,
Godley & Creme,
Mandrill,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Amazonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eurythmics,
Barbara Tucker,
CMW,
Kenny Larkin,
Erasure,
Thompson Twins,
Masters at Work,
Wasted Youth,
The Moleskins,
cv313,
Don Cherry,
T. Rex,
These Immortal Souls,
Agent Orange,
Deakin,
Michelle Simonal,
Basic Channel,
The Barracudas,
Dave Gahan,
The Cramps,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pantaleimon,
Erykah Badu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gastr Del Sol,
Charles Mingus,
Sarah Menescal,
The Electric Prunes,
The Music Machine,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kaleidoscope,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The New Christs,
Black Pus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Althea and Donna,
Zero Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
Siglo XX,
The Count Five,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.