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 Antigua and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Aural Exciters to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Radio Birdman,
Al Stewart,
B.T. Express,
OOIOO,
Joe Finger,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scratch Acid,
Von Mondo,
Patti Smith,
Man Eating Sloth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
MDC,
Subhumans,
Jacques Brel,
Ice-T,
Junior Murvin,
The Offenders,
the Sonics,
Ituana,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The United States of America,
Jacob Miller,
Alison Limerick,
Rotary Connection,
Make Up,
The Names,
the Soft Cell,
Lungfish,
Yazoo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Throbbing Gristle,
E-Dancer,
Fela Kuti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Move,
New Order,
Reuben Wilson,
Faraquet,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxette,
Bobbi Humphrey,
PIL,
Desert Stars,
Guru Guru,
Dave Gahan,
Electric Prunes,
Maurizio,
Con Funk Shun,
The Cure,
Panda Bear,
Sun Ra,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lakeside,
Nico,
Malaria!,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.