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 Ivory Coast and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Underground Resistance to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Organ,
The Black Dice,
The Walker Brothers,
Letta Mbulu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roy Ayers,
Scott Walker,
Alton Ellis,
Wings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
Pantytec,
Nils Olav,
Erasure,
Derrick May,
Absolute Body Control,
Funky Four + One,
Masters at Work,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Average White Band,
John Cale,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jacob Miller,
The J.B.'s,
Mr. Review,
Harry Pussy,
Neil Young,
Grey Daturas,
Talk Talk,
Ossler,
Quando Quango,
Johnny Osbourne,
Chris & Cosey,
Aswad,
Lyres,
Eddi Front,
Skaos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
New Order,
Suicide,
Al Stewart,
Charles Mingus,
Banda Bassotti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Supertramp,
Magazine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Model 500,
Cybotron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
E-Dancer,
John Holt,
JFA,
The Offenders,
The Real Kids,
Bad Manners,
Au Pairs,
Nas,
Rakim,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.