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 Bhutan and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sexual Harrassment to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Index,
the Soft Cell,
Desert Stars,
Joey Negro,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Real Kids,
Aswad,
The Leaves,
Joyce Sims,
Fatback Band,
Barrington Levy,
The Birthday Party,
Youth Brigade,
Absolute Body Control,
The Invisible,
Mission of Burma,
UT,
DJ Sneak,
Joy Division,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Swans,
The Pretty Things,
Dorothy Ashby,
Parry Music,
Nico,
This Heat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nils Olav,
Sonny Sharrock,
Steve Hackett,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lucky Dragons,
Zapp,
The Blues Magoos,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Sherman,
Scan 7,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kas Product,
Model 500,
Carl Craig,
Marvin Gaye,
Terry Callier,
Fad Gadget,
Ituana,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cameo,
Wire,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Qualms,
June Days,
Anthony Braxton,
Nation of Ulysses,
Traffic Nightmare,
E-Dancer,
Ice-T,
Donny Hathaway,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.