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 Tunisia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Tears for Fears 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
The Tremeloes,
Second Layer,
Sam Rivers,
Goldenarms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Banda Bassotti,
The Blackbyrds,
Rekid,
Scratch Acid,
The Fortunes,
Radiohead,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pylon,
In Retrospect,
Pantaleimon,
The Music Machine,
Soul II Soul,
The Cowsills,
Dennis Brown,
The Red Krayola,
The Happenings,
Marshall Jefferson,
Zapp,
CMW,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Standells,
Kerrie Biddell,
Theoretical Girls,
Deadbeat,
Slave,
Jacques Brel,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Au Pairs,
R.M.O.,
Kurtis Blow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultra Naté,
Sarah Menescal,
The Barracudas,
The Pop Group,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kerri Chandler,
Sparks,
F. McDonald,
Symarip,
Black Bananas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Parry Music,
Patti Smith,
Animal Collective,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Pus,
KRS-One,
Maleditus Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Depeche Mode,
Byron Stingily,
Hoover,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.