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 the UAE and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Lalo Schifrin to the funk 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Harmonia,
Kool Moe Dee,
Moby Grape,
Suicide,
The Pretty Things,
Scan 7,
Ronnie Foster,
Warsaw,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wasted Youth,
The Gun Club,
Schoolly D,
Swell Maps,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Youth Brigade,
Subhumans,
Heaven 17,
The Invisible,
The Index,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
a-ha,
Roger Hodgson,
Hashim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Derrick May,
Adolescents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slackers,
Jeff Lynne,
ABBA,
Gang Gang Dance,
Negative Approach,
Sugar Minott,
Peter & Gordon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
R.M.O.,
Marmalade,
Minny Pops,
The Motions,
Funkadelic,
Alton Ellis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tres Demented,
Cybotron,
Althea and Donna,
Gabor Szabo,
Bang On A Can,
Zero Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Surgeon,
Index,
Ronan,
The Walker Brothers,
Reagan Youth,
Main Source,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Connie Case,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.