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 Somalia and from Seoul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Main Source to the electroclash 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dave Gahan,
D'Angelo,
Tom Boy,
Moss Icon,
Von Mondo,
The Fuzztones,
DJ Sneak,
Arcadia,
Flash Fearless,
Camberwell Now,
U.S. Maple,
Mandrill,
Minutemen,
The Dave Clark Five,
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers,
Mars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roxette,
Sight & Sound,
Bill Near,
Reuben Wilson,
Little Man,
Boredoms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Electric Prunes,
The Victims,
Dead Boys,
Franke,
Groovy Waters,
Brothers Johnson,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Swell Maps,
The Searchers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Erasure,
Ituana,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minnie Riperton,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joy Division,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stetsasonic,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fugs,
Vainqueur,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pylon,
Deepchord,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bang On A Can,
Ultravox,
Talk Talk,
Blossom Toes,
Scion,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Wyatt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Inner City,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pagans,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.