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 Botswana and from Glasgow.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Judy Mowatt to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
X-Ray Spex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultra Naté,
T.S.O.L.,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kayak,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ituana,
Gang Starr,
Malaria!,
Glambeats Corp.,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cramps,
Sam Rivers,
Stiv Bators,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Popol Vuh,
Rhythm & Sound,
Colin Newman,
the Germs,
Idris Muhammad,
Skriet,
Oneida,
One Last Wish,
Scratch Acid,
Qualms,
The Gladiators,
The Motions,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Wake,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Christie,
Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Sneak,
The New Christs,
The Monks,
Arab on Radar,
Interpol,
The J.B.'s,
Swans,
DJ Style,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Khruangbin,
H. Thieme,
Motorama,
Liliput,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker,
The United States of America,
Tommy Roe,
Marvin Gaye,
Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
EPMD,
Steve Hackett,
Lakeside,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.