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 Nepal and from New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Liliput to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Con Funk Shun,
Ornette Coleman,
Colin Newman,
Jerry's Kids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tom Boy,
Spandau Ballet,
Jeff Mills,
The Smoke,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eric B and Rakim,
Underground Resistance,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mary Jane Girls,
Surgeon,
Aural Exciters,
Erasure,
Bobby Sherman,
Chrome,
Nas,
Japan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Hoover,
Sandy B,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Anakelly,
The Slits,
Wasted Youth,
Audionom,
Eurythmics,
Minor Threat,
Pantaleimon,
Talk Talk,
Amon Düül II,
The Blues Magoos,
The Kinks,
Mark Hollis,
Patti Smith,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Pus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang Starr,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Henry Cow,
Tim Buckley,
The New Christs,
Second Layer,
The Slackers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lindisfarne,
Subhumans,
Yellowson,
Crime,
Freddie Wadling,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.