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 Fiji and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soft Cell to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Misunderstood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Banda Bassotti,
Harry Pussy,
Fat Boys,
The Tremeloes,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Selecter,
Matthew Halsall,
H. Thieme,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bob Dylan,
Don Cherry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dorothy Ashby,
Loose Ends,
Lindisfarne,
Oblivians,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Todd Terry,
Robert Wyatt,
Duran Duran,
Con Funk Shun,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
U.S. Maple,
Peter & Gordon,
Rekid,
Rotary Connection,
Slick Rick,
Juan Atkins,
Ossler,
Eve St. Jones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rod Modell,
Stereo Dub,
Underground Resistance,
Ohio Players,
Slave,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Donald Byrd,
L. Decosne,
DJ Sneak,
Warsaw,
The Grass Roots,
Susan Cadogan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Animal Collective,
China Crisis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stetsasonic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Blake Baxter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Cell,
Panda Bear,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.