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 Bahamas and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 Altered Images to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters 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?
Gang Starr,
Bronski Beat,
Tomorrow,
The Fall,
New Order,
Deadbeat,
Marmalade,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Carl Craig,
Nils Olav,
The Fortunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Junior Murvin,
The Toasters,
Nik Kershaw,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Angels of Light,
The Techniques,
The Star Department,
Agitation Free,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott Heron,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arthur Verocai,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crime,
Maleditus Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Litter,
Delta 5,
Bluetip,
Loose Ends,
Yusef Lateef,
Dave Gahan,
Basic Channel,
Kaleidoscope,
Moss Icon,
Albert Ayler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Average White Band,
Wally Richardson,
Mad Mike,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ten City,
Faraquet,
Malaria!,
The Martian,
Sun Ra,
Lalo Schifrin,
Interpol,
Fear,
Anakelly,
David Bowie,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
David McCallum,
Nico,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.