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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 organ 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 The Alarm Clocks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Camberwell Now,
Mandrill,
Gang Starr,
Tom Boy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Funkadelic,
The Pretty Things,
Aswad,
Average White Band,
Sixth Finger,
Bill Wells,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Essential Logic,
Urselle,
The Dirtbombs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
New York Dolls,
Brand Nubian,
Kayak,
the Human League,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ponytail,
Monolake,
Cheater Slicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Groovy Waters,
Absolute Body Control,
Scientists,
Donald Byrd,
June Days,
X-102,
Bob Dylan,
The Misunderstood,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yellowson,
Soul II Soul,
Sun Ra,
Marvin Gaye,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Can,
Half Japanese,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dave Gahan,
Talk Talk,
Jeff Mills,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blancmange,
The Gap Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Slave,
Country Teasers,
DJ Sneak,
Matthew Bourne,
Piero Umiliani,
Rotary Connection,
Pierre Henry,
The Moleskins,
Goldenarms,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.