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 Bhutan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Taipei.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Association to the disco 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chris Corsano,
the Swans,
Tears for Fears,
a-ha,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scott Walker,
The Dirtbombs,
Barry Ungar,
Lower 48,
Robert Görl,
Radio Birdman,
Malaria!,
OOIOO,
Susan Cadogan,
Mo-Dettes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Skarface,
Man Parrish,
Panda Bear,
Mission of Burma,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Main Source,
Boredoms,
the Association,
Joensuu 1685,
Erasure,
New Order,
Lou Christie,
Matthew Halsall,
Harmonia,
Althea and Donna,
The Gun Club,
Little Man,
Michelle Simonal,
Altered Images,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeff Mills,
Sound Behaviour,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Franke,
Make Up,
John Holt,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Offenders,
The Walker Brothers,
The Leaves,
The Golliwogs,
Erykah Badu,
Y Pants,
The Smoke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Roxette,
Minnie Riperton,
Lyres,
Brand Nubian,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.