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 Ivory Coast and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
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 arpeggiator 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 Piero Umiliani to the crunk 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rites of Spring,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pet Shop Boys,
Faust,
Connie Case,
Eli Mardock,
The Raincoats,
The Pretty Things,
Jawbox,
Hoover,
Moss Icon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Little Man,
T. Rex,
Dawn Penn,
Aaron Thompson,
Hashim,
Soul II Soul,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Babytalk,
Maurizio,
Andrew Hill,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Malaria!,
Flipper,
Ronan,
A Certain Ratio,
Robert Hood,
Susan Cadogan,
Bush Tetras,
Lungfish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arcadia,
Jandek,
Masters at Work,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Michelle Simonal,
48th St. Collective,
Average White Band,
Popol Vuh,
Inner City,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Anakelly,
Eric Copeland,
Wally Richardson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Blues Magoos,
Blancmange,
New York Dolls,
Gichy Dan,
Steve Hackett,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott Heron,
Infiniti,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ossler,
The Move,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.