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 Colombia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lou Reed 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 Bizarre Inc. to the grime 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Black Sheep,
Sugar Minott,
The Walker Brothers,
Motorama,
Skriet,
Electric Prunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nik Kershaw,
Skaos,
Los Fastidios,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eddi Front,
The Dave Clark Five,
T.S.O.L.,
Scan 7,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dirtbombs,
The Remains,
Index,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Dead C,
The Golliwogs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alphaville,
Minnie Riperton,
Fear,
Main Source,
Tubeway Army,
Spoonie Gee,
The Names,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Angry Samoans,
Wire,
The Motions,
The Mighty Diamonds,
UT,
The United States of America,
The Gladiators,
One Last Wish,
The Trojans,
Ponytail,
Con Funk Shun,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sex Pistols,
Brothers Johnson,
Porter Ricks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Morten Harket,
X-101,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Bar-Kays,
Donald Byrd,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Von Mondo,
Section 25,
Quantec,
The Pop Group,
Amazonics,
DNA,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
Liliput,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.