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 Lebanon and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the grime 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cure,
Crash Course in Science,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dirtbombs,
Howard Jones,
Make Up,
Amazonics,
Blancmange,
The Blackbyrds,
Scan 7,
Blake Baxter,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gap Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rosa Yemen,
The Doors,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Derrick May,
The Last Poets,
Royal Trux,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ludus,
Bill Near,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Angels of Light,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flipper,
Mission of Burma,
Pagans,
Gichy Dan,
Bush Tetras,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Godley & Creme,
Tommy Roe,
Gang of Four,
Dark Day,
The Litter,
Erasure,
MDC,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Agent Orange,
China Crisis,
Silicon Teens,
the Germs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bob Dylan,
Prince Buster,
Interpol,
Alton Ellis,
Drexciya,
FM Einheit,
Wings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.