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 Afghanistan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ 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 Spandau Ballet to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
The Doors,
Swell Maps,
Dual Sessions,
Sällskapet,
Letta Mbulu,
Boz Scaggs,
Bush Tetras,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joe Finger,
Sister Nancy,
Derrick May,
Main Source,
Young Marble Giants,
The Slits,
The Residents,
Television Personalities,
The Human League,
Yazoo,
The Remains,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Vainqueur,
Traffic Nightmare,
Outsiders,
Bobby Byrd,
Lucky Dragons,
Jeff Mills,
E-Dancer,
Dawn Penn,
The Red Krayola,
Funkadelic,
Laurel Aitken,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tomorrow,
Agent Orange,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jacques Brel,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Max Romeo,
Spandau Ballet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bluetip,
Talk Talk,
Guru Guru,
The Young Rascals,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Negative Approach,
Gang Green,
Ronnie Foster,
The Saints,
Tres Demented,
Tom Boy,
Can,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stereo Dub,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eden Ahbez,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.