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 Micronesia and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scrapy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Connie Case,
PIL,
Spoonie Gee,
Mars,
Toni Rubio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Reuben Wilson,
Ituana,
Dave Gahan,
This Heat,
Terry Callier,
The Dead C,
the Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
Bang On A Can,
Black Moon,
Sugar Minott,
Guru Guru,
Sex Pistols,
Dead Boys,
The Residents,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Prince Buster,
The Pop Group,
Gong,
Wings,
Deadbeat,
The United States of America,
the Germs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Thompson Twins,
ABBA,
Stereo Dub,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Flesh Eaters,
Piero Umiliani,
Audionom,
The Vogues,
Hashim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Scientists,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-102,
Quando Quango,
Circle Jerks,
Sixth Finger,
Smog,
Deepchord,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scratch Acid,
Yellowson,
Whodini,
Scan 7,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Steve Hackett,
The Birthday Party,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gories,
B.T. Express,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.