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 Pakistan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Donald Fagen 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
the Swans,
Saccharine Trust,
Vladislav Delay,
Laurel Aitken,
Make Up,
Television Personalities,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grey Daturas,
Mission of Burma,
The Saints,
Motorama,
Black Pus,
Deakin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gong,
The Mighty Diamonds,
New York Dolls,
Con Funk Shun,
L. Decosne,
Liliput,
Inner City,
Quando Quango,
Piero Umiliani,
Unrelated Segments,
Angry Samoans,
New Age Steppers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Chrome,
Judy Mowatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Evens,
The Sound,
Sonic Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacob Miller,
Tears for Fears,
Donald Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Faraquet,
Ice-T,
Anakelly,
Clear Light,
Porter Ricks,
Kevin Saunderson,
Man Parrish,
The Wake,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Music Machine,
The Slackers,
Roxette,
The Cowsills,
The American Breed,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Sherman,
The Searchers,
Smog,
Bill Near,
Dennis Brown,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.