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 Nauru and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Iggy Pop to the rap 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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Crime,
Darondo,
Mo-Dettes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Y Pants,
Josef K,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fuzztones,
Liliput,
Erasure,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thee Headcoats,
The Motions,
Aswad,
Graham Central Station,
Quantec,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rotary Connection,
Nation of Ulysses,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Urselle,
Lalann,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Index,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun City Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Prince Buster,
Accadde A,
The Fugs,
Sister Nancy,
Absolute Body Control,
Audionom,
Black Sheep,
Nick Fraelich,
Magma,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ituana,
The Victims,
Joyce Sims,
Hot Snakes,
John Coltrane,
David Axelrod,
Bronski Beat,
Warren Ellis,
Joy Division,
Pharoah Sanders,
KRS-One,
Todd Terry,
Sugar Minott,
Ten City,
The Litter,
Nik Kershaw,
Lebanon Hanover,
Max Romeo,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.