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 Japan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brick 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Angels of Light,
Ludus,
Fatback Band,
Scrapy,
Crooked Eye,
Patti Smith,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Martian,
Radiohead,
Sparks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Glenn Branca,
Goldenarms,
Urselle,
Black Bananas,
Radio Birdman,
Lower 48,
Hardrive,
The Mummies,
Wasted Youth,
Siglo XX,
Roxette,
Tubeway Army,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
Q65,
Matthew Halsall,
the Germs,
DJ Style,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
June of 44,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cecil Taylor,
Nas,
Duran Duran,
Roy Ayers,
Camouflage,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Glambeats Corp.,
Monks,
The Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Wolf Eyes,
the Swans,
Y Pants,
Malaria!,
Alphaville,
Man Parrish,
Peter & Gordon,
Sandy B,
Warren Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gladiators,
Los Fastidios,
The Divine Comedy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bill Wells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.