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 Turkmenistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 Moby Grape to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fall,
Depeche Mode,
Bluetip,
Andrew Hill,
Junior Murvin,
The Count Five,
Groovy Waters,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gladiators,
The Offenders,
Simply Red,
Hoover,
Wolf Eyes,
Aswad,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kerri Chandler,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dual Sessions,
Skriet,
Eden Ahbez,
Inner City,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Anthony Braxton,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minnie Riperton,
Barry Ungar,
Sam Rivers,
Circle Jerks,
Minny Pops,
The Selecter,
Easy Going,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gong,
Black Sheep,
The Birthday Party,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Subhumans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Joyce Sims,
Technova,
Brand Nubian,
The Blues Magoos,
Joe Smooth,
Model 500,
The Durutti Column,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
F. McDonald,
Motorama,
Moby Grape,
Jeff Mills,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Magma,
Colin Newman,
Sixth Finger,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.