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 Tajikistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb 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 Marc Almond to the dance 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Monolake,
The Blues Magoos,
Nas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
Mantronix,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blackbyrds,
Ken Boothe,
The Black Dice,
Cal Tjader,
The Moody Blues,
The Raincoats,
Pierre Henry,
Delta 5,
June of 44,
Moss Icon,
Faust,
Country Teasers,
Fat Boys,
Excepter,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harpers Bizarre,
Derrick Morgan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Outsiders,
Judy Mowatt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
cv313,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smoke,
Fear,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cure,
Marmalade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
Sugar Minott,
Mr. Review,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suicide,
Amon Düül,
JFA,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Flag,
Arcadia,
MDC,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-102,
Chrome,
Ossler,
Mandrill,
The Last Poets,
Liliput,
Davy DMX,
ABBA,
Traffic Nightmare,
Graham Central Station,
Dark Day,
OOIOO,
Ronan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.