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 United Kingdom and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 This Heat to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike 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?
Bobby Womack,
Hashim,
Barry Ungar,
The Walker Brothers,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kerri Chandler,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scientists,
The Martian,
Young Marble Giants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quantec,
Agent Orange,
F. McDonald,
D'Angelo,
The Evens,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Fuzztones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eddi Front,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sight & Sound,
Livin' Joy,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Barracudas,
Don Cherry,
Matthew Bourne,
Harmonia,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wasted Youth,
The Black Dice,
Archie Shepp,
Absolute Body Control,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Clarke,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fire Engines,
Erasure,
Fear,
The Real Kids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Khruangbin,
Robert Hood,
The Smiths,
Brass Construction,
Theoretical Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deakin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Shuggie Otis,
The Leaves,
Mr. Review,
Nik Kershaw,
Byron Stingily,
The Victims,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.