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 Zambia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Matthew Halsall to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
R.M.O.,
Popol Vuh,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dual Sessions,
Jesper Dahlback,
Don Cherry,
Roy Ayers,
Erasure,
Barry Ungar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lalann,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radio Birdman,
Nirvana,
Amon Düül II,
DJ Style,
Mantronix,
Derrick May,
The Velvet Underground,
Davy DMX,
A Certain Ratio,
The Victims,
Albert Ayler,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Colin Newman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
This Heat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
Organ,
Ohio Players,
The Durutti Column,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blancmange,
Moss Icon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Flipper,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
The Index,
The Gories,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alison Limerick,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eden Ahbez,
Charles Mingus,
Bootsy Collins,
Marmalade,
Public Enemy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Accadde A,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Reed,
Slave,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.