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 India and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Supertramp to the rap 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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Index,
Talk Talk,
Man Parrish,
The Gap Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Suicide,
The Wake,
The Remains,
Guru Guru,
Eve St. Jones,
Don Cherry,
The Barracudas,
Cluster,
The Neon Judgement,
Rosa Yemen,
Sällskapet,
Piero Umiliani,
Scientists,
Deepchord,
Judy Mowatt,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arcadia,
The Dead C,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Faust,
Altered Images,
The Motions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Khruangbin,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Yaz,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fugazi,
Eurythmics,
Dark Day,
Royal Trux,
Mad Mike,
Swans,
John Foxx,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cal Tjader,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
10cc,
Johnny Clarke,
Todd Terry,
Moss Icon,
Black Flag,
Idris Muhammad,
James White and The Blacks,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Toasters,
Nation of Ulysses,
The New Christs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deadbeat,
Bush Tetras,
Simply Red,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.