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 Israel and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pylon,
Bluetip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Grauzone,
Flamin' Groovies,
Porter Ricks,
Circle Jerks,
James White and The Blacks,
The Skatalites,
Thompson Twins,
The Slackers,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Normal,
Nils Olav,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Supertramp,
Agent Orange,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Victims,
Bobby Womack,
Drexciya,
The Divine Comedy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
Althea and Donna,
Kayak,
Hashim,
Nas,
Delta 5,
Rod Modell,
Pantaleimon,
Smog,
Deakin,
Marshall Jefferson,
Suicide,
Fatback Band,
Deadbeat,
The Moody Blues,
The Angels of Light,
Dual Sessions,
Flipper,
Ornette Coleman,
Fat Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Peter & Gordon,
The Buckinghams,
The Grass Roots,
Altered Images,
These Immortal Souls,
Nik Kershaw,
A Certain Ratio,
Pagans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marc Almond,
Isaac Hayes,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.