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 Norway and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Michael McDonald 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 Freddie Wadling to the techno 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Arcadia,
Lucky Dragons,
Outsiders,
Man Parrish,
the Slits,
Echospace,
Pylon,
Nils Olav,
Faust,
Janne Schatter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Mr. Review,
Bootsy Collins,
Harry Pussy,
Hoover,
Funky Four + One,
Sexual Harrassment,
Malaria!,
Delta 5,
The Victims,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Moby Grape,
B.T. Express,
Anthony Braxton,
John Lydon,
Soul II Soul,
X-Ray Spex,
Amon Düül,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Maleditus Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
the Human League,
The Skatalites,
Alphaville,
the Germs,
Babytalk,
Marine Girls,
DJ Style,
Delon & Dalcan,
Piero Umiliani,
Public Enemy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
World's Most,
Joyce Sims,
Spoonie Gee,
Morten Harket,
Sarah Menescal,
Nas,
Guru Guru,
Moss Icon,
Nick Fraelich,
The Leaves,
The Fugs,
Erasure,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.