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 Pakistan and from Spokane.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Yazoo to the electroclash 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 a marimba and a snare 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacques Brel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Carl Craig,
Pussy Galore,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Howard Jones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Duran Duran,
Subhumans,
Roger Hodgson,
Minnie Riperton,
Make Up,
DJ Sneak,
New Order,
Con Funk Shun,
David Bowie,
Trumans Water,
Anakelly,
The Neon Judgement,
Chris & Cosey,
Q and Not U,
Jimmy McGriff,
Porter Ricks,
Bluetip,
Y Pants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bootsy Collins,
Joe Finger,
H. Thieme,
PIL,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fat Boys,
Urselle,
JFA,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Copeland,
Slick Rick,
Maurizio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Vogues,
Sandy B,
The Techniques,
Sound Behaviour,
Mark Hollis,
Bad Manners,
Joy Division,
Public Enemy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Peter & Gordon,
The Litter,
DJ Style,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.