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 Tunisia and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Man Eating Sloth to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bill Near,
Howard Jones,
Eddi Front,
Eric B and Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Interpol,
Roger Hodgson,
Graham Central Station,
New Age Steppers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crime,
Soulsonic Force,
T. Rex,
Chris & Cosey,
Suburban Knight,
B.T. Express,
Cheater Slicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Q65,
Supertramp,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Amazonics,
Jeru the Damaja,
D'Angelo,
Buzzcocks,
Basic Channel,
Television Personalities,
Chrome,
Jawbox,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Newcleus,
The Kinks,
Reuben Wilson,
Minnie Riperton,
Darondo,
the Normal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
AZ,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Chris Corsano,
The Real Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Todd Rundgren,
Fluxion,
Public Enemy,
Liliput,
Danielle Patucci,
The Flesh Eaters,
Simply Red,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Swell Maps,
Das Ding,
MC5,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.