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 Iraq and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Matthew Bourne to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Pierre Henry,
Smog,
Dead Boys,
Bronski Beat,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Drexciya,
Harry Pussy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Siglo XX,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fugazi,
Mr. Review,
Radio Birdman,
Erasure,
Hot Snakes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Circle Jerks,
The Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Urselle,
The Remains,
Oblivians,
The Martian,
The Blackbyrds,
Faust,
Cybotron,
Spandau Ballet,
The Happenings,
Eli Mardock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masters at Work,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tomorrow,
The Victims,
David Axelrod,
Rod Modell,
Donald Byrd,
Khruangbin,
Brick,
Pulsallama,
Pantaleimon,
Jandek,
Can,
Joey Negro,
The Leaves,
The Names,
Maurizio,
Royal Trux,
F. McDonald,
La Düsseldorf,
The Evens,
the Bar-Kays,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Birthday Party,
Yazoo,
The Raincoats,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Organ,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.