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 Guinea and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Rufus Thomas to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Angels of Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Toni Rubio,
Royal Trux,
The Buckinghams,
These Immortal Souls,
Can,
L. Decosne,
Tears for Fears,
Porter Ricks,
The Fugs,
The Leaves,
Goldenarms,
Make Up,
Eli Mardock,
The Remains,
Bronski Beat,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Y Pants,
Soulsonic Force,
X-101,
Lower 48,
Black Bananas,
Niagra,
Donny Hathaway,
PIL,
Kerri Chandler,
Arab on Radar,
Procol Harum,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Moleskins,
a-ha,
Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Camberwell Now,
Wally Richardson,
Fad Gadget,
The Fall,
Davy DMX,
Scott Walker,
Easy Going,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Outsiders,
Althea and Donna,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cure,
the Soft Cell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
Tommy Roe,
The Dirtbombs,
Joensuu 1685,
E-Dancer,
Smog,
Quadrant,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.