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 Honduras and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tremeloes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bizarre Inc. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sexual Harrassment,
Outsiders,
The Walker Brothers,
Terry Callier,
a-ha,
Half Japanese,
The Gladiators,
The Dave Clark Five,
Andrew Hill,
Pagans,
Livin' Joy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Japan,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Monochrome Set,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Real Kids,
One Last Wish,
Cheater Slicks,
The Index,
Motorama,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fela Kuti,
The Selecter,
Fugazi,
The Toasters,
Nico,
Kayak,
Godley & Creme,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ronnie Foster,
Reuben Wilson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Pop Group,
Wolf Eyes,
Danielle Patucci,
Freddie Wadling,
Mantronix,
U.S. Maple,
Bad Manners,
Jimmy McGriff,
Reagan Youth,
Audionom,
The Grass Roots,
Erasure,
Morten Harket,
Soul II Soul,
Maurizio,
Brand Nubian,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brothers Johnson,
The Blues Magoos,
Laurel Aitken,
Harpers Bizarre,
Peter & Gordon,
The American Breed,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brick,
Fad Gadget,
Lyres,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.