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 Ethiopia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Con Funk Shun,
Fugazi,
Erasure,
Technova,
Gang of Four,
David Bowie,
The Misunderstood,
Altered Images,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Pop Group,
Peter and Kerry,
R.M.O.,
The Toasters,
Aloha Tigers,
The Motions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eric Copeland,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Hood,
Roger Hodgson,
Scan 7,
The Busters,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gories,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amazonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
L. Decosne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
Masters at Work,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Popol Vuh,
Sarah Menescal,
Vladislav Delay,
Sister Nancy,
Colin Newman,
Pussy Galore,
Kevin Saunderson,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Infiniti,
Yaz,
Liliput,
Althea and Donna,
Ultra Naté,
Schoolly D,
Negative Approach,
Underground Resistance,
Severed Heads,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cheater Slicks,
The Trojans,
Pagans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deadbeat,
DNA,
This Heat,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.