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 Denmark and from Cairo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Selecter to the jazz 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Surgeon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Magazine,
New Order,
Derrick Morgan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Doors,
Bobby Womack,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bootsy Collins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quadrant,
China Crisis,
UT,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
The Skatalites,
the Swans,
David McCallum,
The New Christs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Silicon Teens,
L. Decosne,
Little Man,
The Move,
The Litter,
Basic Channel,
Newcleus,
Anakelly,
The Martian,
Marc Almond,
Graham Central Station,
Essential Logic,
Goldenarms,
Cybotron,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Searchers,
Con Funk Shun,
Sister Nancy,
Mission of Burma,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Q65,
the Normal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hasil Adkins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Style,
Aural Exciters,
Prince Buster,
The Pretty Things,
Monks,
Shuggie Otis,
Soulsonic Force,
The Five Americans,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Vogues,
The Raincoats,
Pagans,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.