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 Gabon and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Kas Product to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken 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?
Cybotron,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric Dolphy,
Jeff Lynne,
Mark Hollis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eddi Front,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dennis Brown,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ludus,
Josef K,
The Dirtbombs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sixth Finger,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ponytail,
Bang On A Can,
Soulsonic Force,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joyce Sims,
This Heat,
Althea and Donna,
Country Joe & The Fish,
MDC,
DNA,
The Residents,
The Blackbyrds,
Letta Mbulu,
Kas Product,
the Swans,
Blake Baxter,
Sandy B,
Joe Finger,
Camberwell Now,
Wings,
The Slackers,
Bootsy Collins,
ABC,
The Monks,
Chrome,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Names,
Toni Rubio,
Siglo XX,
The United States of America,
Michelle Simonal,
The Searchers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Janne Schatter,
Marine Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Eden Ahbez,
Fluxion,
Rufus Thomas,
Roger Hodgson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.