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 Albania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 The Real Kids to the disco 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Nirvana,
Darondo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Judy Mowatt,
B.T. Express,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Television,
Amazonics,
Alison Limerick,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Sherman,
The Litter,
The Birthday Party,
Soul Sonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Slave,
Juan Atkins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Skriet,
Main Source,
Silicon Teens,
Pole,
The Zeros,
KRS-One,
Nas,
Ronan,
Todd Terry,
Quando Quango,
Suburban Knight,
The Modern Lovers,
Masters at Work,
Sparks,
UT,
Aural Exciters,
The Neon Judgement,
OOIOO,
Porter Ricks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Smiths,
Archie Shepp,
ABC,
Mary Jane Girls,
Von Mondo,
X-Ray Spex,
Amon Düül II,
Unwound,
Leonard Cohen,
Ossler,
The Mojo Men,
Carl Craig,
Scratch Acid,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Junior Murvin,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Joe Finger,
Howard Jones,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.