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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Colin Newman to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Subhumans,
the Sonics,
The Cramps,
Wolf Eyes,
Index,
Roxy Music,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Audionom,
DNA,
Jacob Miller,
The Monks,
Bob Dylan,
KRS-One,
Agent Orange,
David McCallum,
The Raincoats,
John Lydon,
Isaac Hayes,
Easy Going,
Panda Bear,
Freddie Wadling,
Aloha Tigers,
Scientists,
Todd Terry,
Joyce Sims,
Underground Resistance,
Malaria!,
Japan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Altered Images,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Delta 5,
Sun City Girls,
Alison Limerick,
Kayak,
Bill Wells,
The Move,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Five Americans,
Charles Mingus,
The Barracudas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
This Heat,
Lower 48,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fall,
Khruangbin,
Tommy Roe,
Rufus Thomas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Archie Shepp,
Section 25,
The Tremeloes,
Eddi Front,
Scott Walker,
Ludus,
Electric Prunes,
The Gories,
Jeff Lynne,
Minnie Riperton,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.