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 Rwanda and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 Schoolly D 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '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 PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
10cc,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Metal Thangz,
Mad Mike,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cramps,
B.T. Express,
Mandrill,
Piero Umiliani,
World's Most,
Liliput,
Cymande,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scratch Acid,
Reagan Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Last Poets,
Main Source,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Buckinghams,
The Sound,
the Association,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pantytec,
Josef K,
Pulsallama,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blossom Toes,
Minny Pops,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mr. Review,
Pussy Galore,
Underground Resistance,
Tim Buckley,
Au Pairs,
Amon Düül,
The Tremeloes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Ronan,
Jacob Miller,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fat Boys,
Sandy B,
Slick Rick,
Fluxion,
Carl Craig,
John Coltrane,
The Raincoats,
The Black Dice,
Scott Walker,
Pantaleimon,
This Heat,
Eric Copeland,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Make Up,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.