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 Switzerland and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the rap 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Masters at Work,
Inner City,
Robert Hood,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Barracudas,
Brothers Johnson,
Junior Murvin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gladiators,
June of 44,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Johnny Clarke,
Alphaville,
The Cramps,
Banda Bassotti,
The Move,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Offenders,
F. McDonald,
Animal Collective,
The Fall,
The Searchers,
Bronski Beat,
Laurel Aitken,
The Residents,
The Five Americans,
Thompson Twins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Warren Ellis,
Ice-T,
The Dirtbombs,
New York Dolls,
Main Source,
kango's stein massive,
Trumans Water,
Brick,
Pantaleimon,
Robert Wyatt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soulsonic Force,
Ohio Players,
The Black Dice,
June Days,
Isaac Hayes,
Ornette Coleman,
Archie Shepp,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Leaves,
Fear,
Howard Jones,
K-Klass,
Bobby Sherman,
Ten City,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
cv313,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Index,
Suicide,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.