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 Algeria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
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 spring reverb 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
The Smoke,
The Leaves,
Accadde A,
Alton Ellis,
New Age Steppers,
Suicide,
Fugazi,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Drive Like Jehu,
Supertramp,
Groovy Waters,
the Slits,
Procol Harum,
Ken Boothe,
Con Funk Shun,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Zero Boys,
Bill Near,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Glambeats Corp.,
Albert Ayler,
Robert Wyatt,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Doors,
Bluetip,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Schoolly D,
Ornette Coleman,
Surgeon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eurythmics,
Yazoo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Young Marble Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tim Buckley,
The Monochrome Set,
Soft Machine,
F. McDonald,
Symarip,
Yellowson,
U.S. Maple,
Hashim,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Martian,
T.S.O.L.,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terry Callier,
Quadrant,
Sight & Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lalo Schifrin,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.