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 Sweden and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 a-ha to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scratch Acid,
Liliput,
Mad Mike,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Television,
Section 25,
Gang Green,
Wings,
Cymande,
Zapp,
Sandy B,
Fear,
The Selecter,
Amazonics,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Swans,
Anakelly,
MDC,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Quantec,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bad Manners,
John Foxx,
The Last Poets,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Davy DMX,
Juan Atkins,
Wire,
Jawbox,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lou Christie,
Inner City,
Accadde A,
A Certain Ratio,
Suicide,
Hashim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kenny Larkin,
the Bar-Kays,
Prince Buster,
Robert Görl,
Skaos,
Bauhaus,
The Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
Organ,
Black Sheep,
Moebius,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sister Nancy,
Tim Buckley,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Idris Muhammad,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Infiniti,
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Clarke,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.