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 Iran and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Erasure to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Das Ding,
Wire,
the Human League,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eddi Front,
Banda Bassotti,
Don Cherry,
Procol Harum,
Gabor Szabo,
The United States of America,
The Black Dice,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stockholm Monsters,
Albert Ayler,
Skriet,
Prince Buster,
Fugazi,
Byron Stingily,
Bill Near,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brass Construction,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang of Four,
These Immortal Souls,
Scion,
Blake Baxter,
Warsaw,
Youth Brigade,
Shuggie Otis,
The Golliwogs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Terry Callier,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rod Modell,
Masters at Work,
Fat Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
The Saints,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Au Pairs,
Main Source,
Howard Jones,
Drexciya,
Half Japanese,
Los Fastidios,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eurythmics,
The Leaves,
This Heat,
The Fortunes,
The Angels of Light,
The Dead C,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crash Course in Science,
Adolescents,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.