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 Costa Rica and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Spandau Ballet to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Pierre Henry,
Curtis Mayfield,
Traffic Nightmare,
Carl Craig,
Deadbeat,
The Sound,
Don Cherry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Henry Cow,
Darondo,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Prunes,
Kurtis Blow,
Hot Snakes,
Freddie Wadling,
Cal Tjader,
Wire,
Ten City,
E-Dancer,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grauzone,
Urselle,
Jandek,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Blackbyrds,
Section 25,
Letta Mbulu,
David Bowie,
Cymande,
Byron Stingily,
Loose Ends,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sparks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Smoke,
Ultra Naté,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jacques Brel,
Depeche Mode,
Barclay James Harvest,
Harry Pussy,
Swell Maps,
Arab on Radar,
Maurizio,
Warsaw,
Quadrant,
The Tremeloes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eden Ahbez,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sandy B,
Ossler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Alison Limerick,
The Victims,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cluster,
Con Funk Shun,
Flash Fearless,
Japan,
Prince Buster,
La Düsseldorf,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.