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 Jamaica and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the grunge 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suicide,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Glenn Branca,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hot Snakes,
Country Teasers,
The Busters,
Moby Grape,
These Immortal Souls,
The Modern Lovers,
Erasure,
Eve St. Jones,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The United States of America,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
Mo-Dettes,
Siglo XX,
Absolute Body Control,
Deakin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Knickerbockers,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Blues Magoos,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Germs,
Sixth Finger,
Pierre Henry,
The Monochrome Set,
Soft Machine,
Quando Quango,
Dave Gahan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Groovy Waters,
Niagra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Maurizio,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Trumans Water,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Howard Jones,
Model 500,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Second Layer,
Graham Central Station,
Aural Exciters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Kinks,
Babytalk,
Interpol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tommy Roe,
Ultra Naté,
The Birthday Party,
Moss Icon,
Soul II Soul,
Harry Pussy,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.