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 Iceland and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Rhythm & Sound to the funk 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Pussy Galore,
Vainqueur,
In Retrospect,
Sparks,
Pulsallama,
Al Stewart,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Supertramp,
F. McDonald,
Fugazi,
Marcia Griffiths,
L. Decosne,
Angry Samoans,
The Sound,
Outsiders,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mo-Dettes,
Saccharine Trust,
Drexciya,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Agitation Free,
Gil Scott Heron,
Flash Fearless,
Trumans Water,
Traffic Nightmare,
T. Rex,
Ohio Players,
X-Ray Spex,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brick,
Motorama,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slave,
Suburban Knight,
The Associates,
Howard Jones,
T.S.O.L.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pet Shop Boys,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Görl,
Absolute Body Control,
Second Layer,
Camouflage,
Dual Sessions,
New York Dolls,
The Dead C,
The Cure,
Sam Rivers,
Siglo XX,
June Days,
Pharoah Sanders,
Television Personalities,
The Smiths,
Steve Hackett,
John Lydon,
Cheater Slicks,
Whodini,
The Alarm Clocks,
These Immortal Souls,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.