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 Philippines and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
Prince Buster,
The Slackers,
These Immortal Souls,
Fluxion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mantronix,
Danielle Patucci,
Reuben Wilson,
A Certain Ratio,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Velvet Underground,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Pop Group,
The Mummies,
The Neon Judgement,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lower 48,
Black Pus,
The Trojans,
Niagra,
Derrick May,
UT,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sound,
Severed Heads,
The Motions,
Thompson Twins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Visage,
David McCallum,
B.T. Express,
Matthew Halsall,
Letta Mbulu,
The Monks,
the Association,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marine Girls,
Ten City,
Cluster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Audionom,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marshall Jefferson,
OOIOO,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pantytec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
R.M.O.,
Funky Four + One,
Ralphi Rosario,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott Heron,
Monolake,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
The Wake,
Funkadelic,
Malaria!,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.