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 London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 T. Rex to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
X-Ray Spex,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Excepter,
Roxette,
Scientists,
Desert Stars,
Darondo,
The Fuzztones,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Schoolly D,
The Evens,
Black Pus,
The Seeds,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fugs,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Black Dice,
The Tremeloes,
ABBA,
Carl Craig,
Swans,
the Slits,
John Lydon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stiv Bators,
The Names,
Robert Wyatt,
Joe Finger,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Crooked Eye,
Ponytail,
The Knickerbockers,
Radio Birdman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Delon & Dalcan,
Anakelly,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Funky Four + One,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Altered Images,
New Order,
Minor Threat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Magazine,
Los Fastidios,
Barry Ungar,
FM Einheit,
Roy Ayers,
Pulsallama,
48th St. Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
Marmalade,
The Cure,
These Immortal Souls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Masters at Work,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.