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 Djibouti and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Rosa Yemen,
Vainqueur,
Yaz,
Nils Olav,
The New Christs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lakeside,
Jerry's Kids,
PIL,
Mr. Review,
Crooked Eye,
Popol Vuh,
Juan Atkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dawn Penn,
the Association,
Jeff Mills,
Unwound,
Amon Düül,
Arab on Radar,
John Coltrane,
Wings,
X-Ray Spex,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Con Funk Shun,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun City Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
Sixth Finger,
Cal Tjader,
R.M.O.,
Big Daddy Kane,
Archie Shepp,
T. Rex,
Sex Pistols,
Alphaville,
The Gun Club,
Donny Hathaway,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ronnie Foster,
Heaven 17,
Mission of Burma,
OOIOO,
Stiv Bators,
Eli Mardock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Icehouse,
The Music Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Colin Newman,
Electric Prunes,
The Moleskins,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.