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 Nepal and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Hasil Adkins to the dance 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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 Buckinghams,
Model 500,
Sparks,
T. Rex,
Severed Heads,
The Zeros,
X-Ray Spex,
Ohio Players,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arcadia,
Sex Pistols,
Marshall Jefferson,
Shoche,
Angry Samoans,
PIL,
X-102,
Fluxion,
Prince Buster,
Crime,
Ultra Naté,
Niagra,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Wyatt,
Pantaleimon,
Steve Hackett,
The Durutti Column,
Lalo Schifrin,
Juan Atkins,
Mission of Burma,
Black Flag,
Radiopuhelimet,
Schoolly D,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Franke,
Mars,
Aural Exciters,
The Standells,
The Beau Brummels,
Kerrie Biddell,
June of 44,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anakelly,
Aswad,
Nils Olav,
Smog,
Reagan Youth,
The Smiths,
Masters at Work,
Piero Umiliani,
The New Christs,
Byron Stingily,
Duran Duran,
Jesper Dahlback,
This Heat,
Crooked Eye,
John Lydon,
Groovy Waters,
Urselle,
The Searchers,
Yusef Lateef,
The Alarm Clocks,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.