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 Liechtenstein and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 The Mummies to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Jerry's Kids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bronski Beat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pantaleimon,
Subhumans,
Mantronix,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sugar Minott,
Easy Going,
Sun Ra,
Steve Hackett,
The Invisible,
Heaven 17,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Trumans Water,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Real Kids,
Agitation Free,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Litter,
Jeff Mills,
Yusef Lateef,
Iggy Pop,
The Associates,
Kool Moe Dee,
Quadrant,
H. Thieme,
Slick Rick,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lightning Bolt,
The Move,
Barbara Tucker,
Pierre Henry,
Joe Finger,
Thompson Twins,
Kaleidoscope,
Sound Behaviour,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Womack,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pagans,
David Bowie,
Aaron Thompson,
June of 44,
Rotary Connection,
Arcadia,
Graham Central Station,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Moon,
Matthew Halsall,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.