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 Angola and from Seoul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the disco 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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
cv313,
Marvin Gaye,
Electric Prunes,
Ludus,
The Black Dice,
Freddie Wadling,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Near,
Lalo Schifrin,
Organ,
Joe Smooth,
Shoche,
Rosa Yemen,
Patti Smith,
Newcleus,
The Fugs,
EPMD,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cameo,
Bush Tetras,
D'Angelo,
Rakim,
Desert Stars,
The Saints,
Goldenarms,
a-ha,
A Certain Ratio,
Deakin,
June Days,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Young Marble Giants,
Eden Ahbez,
Japan,
Minny Pops,
Main Source,
Symarip,
The Alarm Clocks,
Echospace,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sam Rivers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Invisible,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gong,
Angry Samoans,
Parry Music,
Lindisfarne,
Arcadia,
Scion,
Grey Daturas,
Mad Mike,
Jawbox,
Heaven 17,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantaleimon,
The Fortunes,
Roy Ayers,
Flipper,
Flash Fearless,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.