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 Nigeria and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Sparks,
The Trojans,
The Fuzztones,
Jawbox,
Young Marble Giants,
the Germs,
The Invisible,
Theoretical Girls,
Barrington Levy,
Pylon,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Byrd,
Joensuu 1685,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
Harmonia,
Rotary Connection,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ultravox,
The Gories,
Rosa Yemen,
The Buckinghams,
Television Personalities,
The Cure,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Public Enemy,
Monks,
MDC,
Easy Going,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Womack,
Can,
T. Rex,
The Happenings,
Grey Daturas,
The Index,
E-Dancer,
Guru Guru,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bush Tetras,
Max Romeo,
Black Pus,
Skaos,
the Slits,
Pere Ubu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Sonics,
Icehouse,
The Evens,
The Five Americans,
Youth Brigade,
Cymande,
Funkadelic,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gun Club,
The Pop Group,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.