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 Eritrea and from Lyon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Moleskins to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
World's Most,
Smog,
Infiniti,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ken Boothe,
In Retrospect,
Funky Four + One,
Freddie Wadling,
Flash Fearless,
Minutemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
David Bowie,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Names,
Soulsonic Force,
ABC,
Mantronix,
Basic Channel,
Qualms,
Marine Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mummies,
Circle Jerks,
Radiohead,
The Detroit Cobras,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Funkadelic,
Pantytec,
Lucky Dragons,
Steve Hackett,
Tom Boy,
Isaac Hayes,
Royal Trux,
Piero Umiliani,
Slave,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Moody Blues,
Kaleidoscope,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
These Immortal Souls,
Talk Talk,
Essential Logic,
Little Man,
Negative Approach,
E-Dancer,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Harry Pussy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eden Ahbez,
Simply Red,
Bootsy Collins,
Subhumans,
UT,
Nik Kershaw,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.