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 Luxembourg and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Gabor Szabo to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Lyres,
Prince Buster,
John Lydon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aswad,
The Black Dice,
Magazine,
The Remains,
Connie Case,
Underground Resistance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bauhaus,
Panda Bear,
Grauzone,
The Victims,
Blake Baxter,
Loose Ends,
Cymande,
Bad Manners,
Toni Rubio,
Jeff Mills,
ABBA,
KRS-One,
Smog,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Max Romeo,
Susan Cadogan,
The Beau Brummels,
Pussy Galore,
Brass Construction,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jandek,
Anakelly,
Duran Duran,
Accadde A,
The American Breed,
Marmalade,
Shuggie Otis,
Sight & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Maurizio,
Babytalk,
Eddi Front,
The Young Rascals,
Gang of Four,
Newcleus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Velvet Underground,
The Monks,
Roxette,
Rod Modell,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Echospace,
Arab on Radar,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yaz,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.