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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lalo Schifrin to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Seeds,
Blake Baxter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neu!,
Ornette Coleman,
Wally Richardson,
Surgeon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Lydon,
Alphaville,
the Normal,
Soft Cell,
Gang Starr,
Reuben Wilson,
Stereo Dub,
The Fortunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
OOIOO,
Marvin Gaye,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
10cc,
Oblivians,
Unrelated Segments,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wire,
Khruangbin,
The Gories,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
Motorama,
Royal Trux,
Alison Limerick,
Minnie Riperton,
Rites of Spring,
Terry Callier,
Flipper,
The Kinks,
Quadrant,
Thompson Twins,
Fat Boys,
The Star Department,
Connie Case,
Bob Dylan,
The Sound,
John Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
Crash Course in Science,
Nik Kershaw,
Sex Pistols,
Audionom,
Andrew Hill,
Matthew Halsall,
Jerry's Kids,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fugs,
Soulsonic Force,
Roy Ayers,
The Gap Band,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.