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 Marshall Islands and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oneida to the techno 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soulsonic Force,
Grauzone,
The Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Wasted Youth,
Interpol,
Newcleus,
Brothers Johnson,
Mars,
Icehouse,
Rotary Connection,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultimate Spinach,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
CMW,
Inner City,
James White and The Blacks,
Susan Cadogan,
Half Japanese,
The Doobie Brothers,
Supertramp,
Sarah Menescal,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Germs,
The Vogues,
Flash Fearless,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sandy B,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories,
The Saints,
Khruangbin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Residents,
Chrome,
Blake Baxter,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scion,
Leonard Cohen,
Q65,
Harry Pussy,
Outsiders,
Kayak,
June Days,
Infiniti,
Laurel Aitken,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Youth Brigade,
Marine Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Technova,
Neil Young,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bang On A Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Boogie Down Productions,
In Retrospect,
Ponytail,
U.S. Maple,
The New Christs,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.