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 Canada and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Mummies 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
MDC,
Basic Channel,
Harry Pussy,
The Pretty Things,
Inner City,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sparks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arthur Verocai,
Y Pants,
The Selecter,
Half Japanese,
Marc Almond,
Neu!,
The Seeds,
Nik Kershaw,
Rapeman,
Liliput,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Heaven 17,
CMW,
Electric Prunes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Last Poets,
Country Teasers,
Deepchord,
Amon Düül,
Beasts of Bourbon,
a-ha,
The Residents,
Pylon,
DJ Style,
Blossom Toes,
Eddi Front,
PIL,
The Angels of Light,
Loose Ends,
New York Dolls,
Darondo,
Lindisfarne,
Motorama,
Howard Jones,
X-101,
Colin Newman,
Maleditus Sound,
Stereo Dub,
The Offenders,
LL Cool J,
Blancmange,
Model 500,
Soul Sonic Force,
Main Source,
Reagan Youth,
Aswad,
Absolute Body Control,
Zapp,
Jacques Brel,
Ultravox,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.