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 Moldova and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fear to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Ornette Coleman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeff Mills,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scientists,
Anakelly,
Matthew Bourne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Boz Scaggs,
The Monochrome Set,
Rakim,
Shoche,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alice Coltrane,
ABC,
Moby Grape,
Judy Mowatt,
Unwound,
MDC,
Lindisfarne,
Chris & Cosey,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Fania All-Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
H. Thieme,
Soft Machine,
the Swans,
The Saints,
Hashim,
Mark Hollis,
Eurythmics,
Interpol,
The Fortunes,
The Sonics,
D'Angelo,
T.S.O.L.,
Kurtis Blow,
Eden Ahbez,
Talk Talk,
Nik Kershaw,
The Offenders,
Magazine,
The Smiths,
Swell Maps,
The Residents,
Henry Cow,
Nico,
Barclay James Harvest,
World's Most,
Sällskapet,
the Soft Cell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minny Pops,
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
Gang Gang Dance,
Althea and Donna,
Saccharine Trust,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.