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 Jordan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 Depeche Mode to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
The Star Department,
Rod Modell,
Kayak,
The Techniques,
Lightning Bolt,
the Bar-Kays,
Isaac Hayes,
The Saints,
Sound Behaviour,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Raincoats,
Fatback Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Shadows of Knight,
Whodini,
MC5,
The Dirtbombs,
Camouflage,
Agitation Free,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fortunes,
Niagra,
Althea and Donna,
10cc,
Bill Near,
Negative Approach,
New York Dolls,
U.S. Maple,
Pierre Henry,
Sun City Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
Barrington Levy,
Con Funk Shun,
Soft Cell,
Swans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Khruangbin,
Janne Schatter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Divine Comedy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cramps,
Slave,
Gichy Dan,
Eddi Front,
Stiv Bators,
Warsaw,
The Gladiators,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Morten Harket,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lakeside,
The J.B.'s,
Heaven 17,
Procol Harum,
Public Enemy,
Cybotron,
Bronski Beat,
The Grass Roots,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.