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 Botswana and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Duran Duran to the funk 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bronski Beat,
Wolf Eyes,
Agent Orange,
Cymande,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Star Department,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Prince Buster,
Pagans,
Fela Kuti,
The Mummies,
Easy Going,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joey Negro,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radiopuhelimet,
Trumans Water,
Warsaw,
Arab on Radar,
Rufus Thomas,
Eli Mardock,
Gil Scott Heron,
Depeche Mode,
Jeff Lynne,
The Stooges,
Marvin Gaye,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Funkadelic,
Roger Hodgson,
Schoolly D,
Frankie Knuckles,
Television Personalities,
The Cure,
The Black Dice,
Glenn Branca,
Skriet,
EPMD,
Youth Brigade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bad Manners,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Visage,
Freddie Wadling,
Eurythmics,
This Heat,
The Real Kids,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Count Five,
Gang Starr,
The Red Krayola,
Gang of Four,
Tears for Fears,
Althea and Donna,
Mad Mike,
Bush Tetras,
X-101,
Kas Product,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.