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 Ivory Coast and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Talk Talk to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pulsallama,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nirvana,
The Litter,
Prince Buster,
Glenn Branca,
Neil Young,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deakin,
Oblivians,
Babytalk,
Leonard Cohen,
Y Pants,
This Heat,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Matthew Halsall,
Half Japanese,
Howard Jones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Don Cherry,
The Slits,
The Count Five,
R.M.O.,
Moebius,
Arthur Verocai,
Kenny Larkin,
Guru Guru,
Cheater Slicks,
Technova,
Little Man,
Neu!,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gun Club,
Pussy Galore,
Scientists,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Monolake,
The Last Poets,
Crispian St. Peters,
Al Stewart,
AZ,
Visage,
Ludus,
Young Marble Giants,
New York Dolls,
Alison Limerick,
Radiohead,
Au Pairs,
Lalann,
The Red Krayola,
The Busters,
Pantaleimon,
Sparks,
Lou Christie,
Magma,
The Vogues,
Whodini,
Gabor Szabo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minor Threat,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.