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 the UAE and from Stockholm.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Matthew Bourne to the disco 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Swell Maps,
Franke,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gun Club,
Basic Channel,
Delta 5,
The Dirtbombs,
Flash Fearless,
Motorama,
Unrelated Segments,
Kas Product,
The Young Rascals,
Cheater Slicks,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Alice Coltrane,
Funky Four + One,
DJ Style,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang of Four,
June of 44,
The Flesh Eaters,
Maurizio,
Country Teasers,
Das Ding,
Kerrie Biddell,
Erykah Badu,
Echospace,
Q and Not U,
Robert Görl,
L. Decosne,
The Standells,
Mad Mike,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter & Gordon,
Marc Almond,
Sällskapet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Holt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Blues Magoos,
the Association,
Man Parrish,
Hot Snakes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Wyatt,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deadbeat,
Tommy Roe,
MC5,
Harmonia,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Guru Guru,
The Selecter,
Henry Cow,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lower 48,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.