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 Barbados and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Trojans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
L. Decosne,
Bush Tetras,
Marvin Gaye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wings,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Icehouse,
Eve St. Jones,
Sexual Harrassment,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Aloha Tigers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Byron Stingily,
Vainqueur,
Joyce Sims,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Visage,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pussy Galore,
The Saints,
Public Enemy,
Gang of Four,
K-Klass,
Thompson Twins,
Boredoms,
Black Moon,
Jeff Lynne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Schoolly D,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flash Fearless,
Banda Bassotti,
Archie Shepp,
Faust,
Television,
Ponytail,
Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
Scrapy,
Man Eating Sloth,
This Heat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Silicon Teens,
Maurizio,
Moby Grape,
Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Excepter,
Roger Hodgson,
Delta 5,
The Happenings,
Yusef Lateef,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-Ray Spex,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.