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 Slovenia and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 The Dead C to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Standells,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crooked Eye,
The Gladiators,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agent Orange,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Doors,
Mandrill,
Ornette Coleman,
F. McDonald,
Ultimate Spinach,
10cc,
the Fania All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
The Angels of Light,
Lou Christie,
Alison Limerick,
Hot Snakes,
Maurizio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Stiv Bators,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pylon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABC,
The Velvet Underground,
Eric Dolphy,
The Human League,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thee Headcoats,
Grey Daturas,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lindisfarne,
the Swans,
Swell Maps,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scientists,
Terry Callier,
Lalo Schifrin,
Delta 5,
Kenny Larkin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Anakelly,
Barry Ungar,
The Fire Engines,
Glenn Branca,
Alphaville,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Symarip,
Bang On A Can,
Kayak,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.