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 Benin and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare 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 Howard Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
In Retrospect,
Glambeats Corp.,
The J.B.'s,
Nico,
Sarah Menescal,
Pierre Henry,
The Dead C,
Barbara Tucker,
Alton Ellis,
Bang On A Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Severed Heads,
Warren Ellis,
Roger Hodgson,
The Doors,
Con Funk Shun,
Cameo,
June Days,
Bauhaus,
Eve St. Jones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barrington Levy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Warsaw,
kango's stein massive,
Sparks,
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy Collins,
Roy Ayers,
The Fuzztones,
T. Rex,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pantytec,
The Blues Magoos,
Motorama,
Tubeway Army,
Mission of Burma,
The Remains,
Leonard Cohen,
Brothers Johnson,
Pet Shop Boys,
David Bowie,
PIL,
Depeche Mode,
Echospace,
Johnny Clarke,
Index,
Gichy Dan,
Marc Almond,
Ossler,
Letta Mbulu,
Saccharine Trust,
Circle Jerks,
L. Decosne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aaron Thompson,
Wire,
The Pop Group,
Alison Limerick,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ice-T,
Liliput,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.