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 Delhi.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the rock 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Eli Mardock,
Smog,
Robert Wyatt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barrington Levy,
The Dead C,
Sixth Finger,
Mad Mike,
Infiniti,
David Axelrod,
The Move,
Nils Olav,
Cluster,
The Velvet Underground,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hot Snakes,
Skriet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eurythmics,
Trumans Water,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kurtis Blow,
Carl Craig,
Bill Near,
New Order,
Arab on Radar,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scrapy,
Brick,
DJ Sneak,
Patti Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Moon,
Technova,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Pus,
Graham Central Station,
Glambeats Corp.,
Skaos,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lakeside,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cheater Slicks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aswad,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pantaleimon,
ABC,
Oneida,
Can,
Motorama,
Brand Nubian,
Quadrant,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Görl,
The Fall,
Sugar Minott,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.