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 East Timor and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Kaleidoscope to the grime 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
The Pop Group,
Harmonia,
Tears for Fears,
Rosa Yemen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arab on Radar,
Moby Grape,
Brand Nubian,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rapeman,
Dawn Penn,
Nils Olav,
Hardrive,
The Associates,
The Human League,
Brick,
Animal Collective,
The Fall,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Reed,
The Angels of Light,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
Easy Going,
Black Sheep,
Banda Bassotti,
Jacques Brel,
Public Enemy,
Fela Kuti,
Spoonie Gee,
T. Rex,
Radio Birdman,
Black Bananas,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Moody Blues,
Marmalade,
Scan 7,
Reagan Youth,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Junior Murvin,
The Smoke,
Minny Pops,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Talk Talk,
The Five Americans,
The Golliwogs,
Alison Limerick,
Dave Gahan,
Barry Ungar,
Bush Tetras,
Cheater Slicks,
Y Pants,
The Gories,
Laurel Aitken,
The American Breed,
Popol Vuh,
The Gap Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Monks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.