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 Equatorial Guinea and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Alphaville to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hasil Adkins,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
David Bowie,
Derrick Morgan,
Tears for Fears,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Byrd,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joyce Sims,
Quantec,
Black Sheep,
Radiopuhelimet,
Terry Callier,
Depeche Mode,
Eli Mardock,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sällskapet,
Blake Baxter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Moon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fortunes,
48th St. Collective,
Urselle,
Sex Pistols,
Joey Negro,
B.T. Express,
Black Pus,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Durutti Column,
Darondo,
Vladislav Delay,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter and Kerry,
Jeff Mills,
H. Thieme,
New Order,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mo-Dettes,
Goldenarms,
The Last Poets,
Gerry Rafferty,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
Unwound,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pharoah Sanders,
Guru Guru,
Alton Ellis,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.