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 Cape Verde and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Urselle to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Smog,
X-102,
Fluxion,
These Immortal Souls,
Delta 5,
Monolake,
Janne Schatter,
Guru Guru,
Suicide,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Searchers,
The Monks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Happenings,
Subhumans,
Adolescents,
Average White Band,
Whodini,
The Slackers,
Au Pairs,
Hashim,
Main Source,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eric Copeland,
Newcleus,
The United States of America,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bush Tetras,
The Zeros,
Kool Moe Dee,
Radio Birdman,
The Litter,
10cc,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
The Motions,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cramps,
The Fuzztones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
The Sound,
New Order,
Sam Rivers,
Technova,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Neil Young,
EPMD,
Barrington Levy,
Heaven 17,
Warren Ellis,
The Dave Clark Five,
Brothers Johnson,
Buzzcocks,
cv313,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.