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 Tuvalu and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Johnny Clarke to the disco 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
the Fania All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
OOIOO,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang of Four,
Bauhaus,
Slick Rick,
Josef K,
Surgeon,
Robert Görl,
Mo-Dettes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lalo Schifrin,
DJ Style,
Iggy Pop,
Zapp,
Bobby Sherman,
The Human League,
Peter & Gordon,
The Monks,
Joe Finger,
Brand Nubian,
Kurtis Blow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bush Tetras,
Kaleidoscope,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Swans,
Sound Behaviour,
Quando Quango,
Bob Dylan,
Kas Product,
The Techniques,
Reagan Youth,
Bluetip,
Jandek,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lindisfarne,
Flipper,
Schoolly D,
Moss Icon,
Main Source,
The Litter,
Gichy Dan,
Bootsy Collins,
The Durutti Column,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Barbara Tucker,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young,
Faust,
Godley & Creme,
Camberwell Now,
8 Eyed Spy,
Subhumans,
The Neon Judgement,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Music Machine,
Stereo Dub,
Soul II Soul,
Scott Walker,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.