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 Jordan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Desert Stars to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Malaria!,
Clear Light,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suburban Knight,
Skriet,
Joyce Sims,
Fluxion,
Slave,
The Monochrome Set,
Zapp,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Tremeloes,
CMW,
The Buckinghams,
John Cale,
Inner City,
Alice Coltrane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pole,
Byron Stingily,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scion,
Colin Newman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Soul II Soul,
Khruangbin,
ABC,
AZ,
Smog,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Moebius,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Happenings,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
Masters at Work,
E-Dancer,
Minutemen,
Animal Collective,
Suicide,
One Last Wish,
Marvin Gaye,
Rufus Thomas,
Interpol,
Faraquet,
Tears for Fears,
Rakim,
Joe Finger,
The Vogues,
Bootsy Collins,
John Foxx,
Basic Channel,
The Cowsills,
Average White Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Stiv Bators,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.