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 Mauritius and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marcia Griffiths to the dance 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Raincoats,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Whodini,
Joey Negro,
Malaria!,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minny Pops,
Robert Görl,
Pylon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Yazoo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blancmange,
Yaz,
Bronski Beat,
Reagan Youth,
The Tremeloes,
Monolake,
Magazine,
Rosa Yemen,
Mo-Dettes,
John Foxx,
Lindisfarne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dead Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
EPMD,
Shuggie Otis,
Kaleidoscope,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sandy B,
The Monochrome Set,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Intrusion,
Lou Christie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Matthew Halsall,
Alison Limerick,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dead C,
Thompson Twins,
Con Funk Shun,
Arab on Radar,
Ronnie Foster,
Arcadia,
Marcia Griffiths,
Public Image Ltd.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
U.S. Maple,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
F. McDonald,
Lalann,
Carl Craig,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cameo,
Swell Maps,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Saints,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.