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 Poland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Ice-T to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Jawbox,
The Raincoats,
The Martian,
Aswad,
Sun Ra,
Scan 7,
Mandrill,
Grey Daturas,
Ultravox,
Shoche,
The Blackbyrds,
ABC,
Man Parrish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fortunes,
Silicon Teens,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mighty Diamonds,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter & Gordon,
Eric Dolphy,
the Soft Cell,
The Moody Blues,
Gong,
Mr. Review,
Howard Jones,
New Order,
a-ha,
Brass Construction,
The Pretty Things,
Nirvana,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roy Ayers,
Boredoms,
Rotary Connection,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sister Nancy,
The Smiths,
Adolescents,
Suicide,
Monolake,
Wasted Youth,
The Human League,
Sex Pistols,
Brothers Johnson,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Moss Icon,
Althea and Donna,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Leaves,
Thompson Twins,
Popol Vuh,
Yaz,
X-101,
Glambeats Corp.,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.