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 Egypt and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Minnie Riperton to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes 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 grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
The Pretty Things,
The Names,
Crime,
These Immortal Souls,
The Standells,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Starr,
Monolake,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Flag,
Shoche,
The Durutti Column,
Jimmy McGriff,
Malaria!,
Bootsy Collins,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pere Ubu,
Yazoo,
Bad Manners,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Franke,
Little Man,
U.S. Maple,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pole,
The Saints,
Fear,
Pantytec,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Modern Lovers,
Flipper,
Lakeside,
Judy Mowatt,
Neil Young,
Eden Ahbez,
Quantec,
Brick,
A Certain Ratio,
Roxy Music,
the Slits,
Kenny Larkin,
The American Breed,
Man Eating Sloth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Fania All-Stars,
Section 25,
The Victims,
The Offenders,
Pierre Henry,
Inner City,
La Düsseldorf,
Motorama,
Rakim,
Sällskapet,
The Sound,
E-Dancer,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Accadde A,
Letta Mbulu,
Sandy B,
Youth Brigade,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.