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 Lesotho and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator 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 June of 44 to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-102,
Ronnie Foster,
Simply Red,
Colin Newman,
Mission of Burma,
Agitation Free,
Minny Pops,
Alphaville,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roger Hodgson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Patti Smith,
Suicide,
Moebius,
Fear,
Kerri Chandler,
Chrome,
Scratch Acid,
Mars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Flesh Eaters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tomorrow,
Subhumans,
Iggy Pop,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Flipper,
Loose Ends,
Judy Mowatt,
Depeche Mode,
Silicon Teens,
X-101,
Franke,
Danielle Patucci,
Junior Murvin,
The Fall,
Scrapy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Erasure,
The Sound,
The Move,
Electric Prunes,
Bill Wells,
Charles Mingus,
Black Pus,
Ludus,
Grey Daturas,
Sandy B,
Alton Ellis,
Japan,
The Smoke,
Sparks,
Vainqueur,
Gang Green,
Bobby Womack,
Ituana,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Deadbeat,
F. McDonald,
Blancmange,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.