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 Dominican Republic and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Golliwogs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Kerrie Biddell,
48th St. Collective,
The Slits,
Index,
Steve Hackett,
Second Layer,
Supertramp,
In Retrospect,
Harpers Bizarre,
Audionom,
Ponytail,
Bobby Sherman,
Spandau Ballet,
Franke,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roy Ayers,
Crispy Ambulance,
David Bowie,
The Buckinghams,
The Residents,
The Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pere Ubu,
Dorothy Ashby,
The New Christs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fear,
Archie Shepp,
Public Image Ltd.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Von Mondo,
Colin Newman,
Graham Central Station,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Big Daddy Kane,
Radio Birdman,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ohio Players,
Average White Band,
the Association,
Grandmaster Flash,
Stiv Bators,
Dennis Brown,
The Velvet Underground,
Crooked Eye,
The Leaves,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aaron Thompson,
Warsaw,
Scratch Acid,
Hasil Adkins,
Harry Pussy,
Flash Fearless,
Sugar Minott,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.