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 Peru and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Knickerbockers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 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 Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Peter and Kerry,
Blossom Toes,
Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Kenny Larkin,
Al Stewart,
Neil Young,
D'Angelo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hasil Adkins,
The Kinks,
The New Christs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Excepter,
Nick Fraelich,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tommy Roe,
the Soft Cell,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cal Tjader,
The Dead C,
Joensuu 1685,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Franke,
Bush Tetras,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jacob Miller,
Donny Hathaway,
Ultravox,
Banda Bassotti,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Trojans,
The J.B.'s,
Tears for Fears,
The Smiths,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Suicide,
Ultra Naté,
Cameo,
H. Thieme,
The Last Poets,
Rekid,
Pagans,
The Beau Brummels,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
L. Decosne,
John Holt,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Coltrane,
Chris & Cosey,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bronski Beat,
The Fortunes,
the Normal,
Technova,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.