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 Singapore and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Monks 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rod Modell,
Lower 48,
Supertramp,
Pulsallama,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Mills,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Blues Magoos,
Shuggie Otis,
Colin Newman,
Neu!,
Cluster,
Joe Finger,
Peter and Kerry,
Anakelly,
Arab on Radar,
Skarface,
Babytalk,
Graham Central Station,
Bluetip,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radio Birdman,
Funky Four + One,
X-101,
Deadbeat,
Fad Gadget,
Nils Olav,
Nik Kershaw,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Lydon,
Crime,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joy Division,
Matthew Halsall,
Motorama,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Standells,
Be Bop Deluxe,
This Heat,
Theoretical Girls,
Blancmange,
UT,
The Barracudas,
Erykah Badu,
Johnny Clarke,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Cure,
Minutemen,
The Searchers,
Magma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glenn Branca,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Junior Murvin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.