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 South Africa and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 American Breed to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group 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 a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suburban Knight,
Donald Byrd,
Television Personalities,
Carl Craig,
The Alarm Clocks,
Con Funk Shun,
The Index,
Depeche Mode,
Rites of Spring,
Neil Young,
Mantronix,
Sun Ra,
Symarip,
Zero Boys,
Rufus Thomas,
Sound Behaviour,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hoover,
the Fania All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
Max Romeo,
Popol Vuh,
T.S.O.L.,
Joy Division,
Ultravox,
AZ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Organ,
Parry Music,
Erasure,
Make Up,
Amon Düül II,
Rod Modell,
Erykah Badu,
Steve Hackett,
John Coltrane,
Gong,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Visage,
Fatback Band,
Fad Gadget,
the Sonics,
Matthew Bourne,
Ronnie Foster,
The Monochrome Set,
Malaria!,
Cybotron,
Rapeman,
Peter and Kerry,
The Residents,
Monolake,
Johnny Osbourne,
Youth Brigade,
Scientists,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Magma,
Mark Hollis,
Bill Near,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Byrd,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.