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 San Marino and from New York.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Masters at Work to the grunge 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
The Skatalites,
Deakin,
Minnie Riperton,
Jimmy McGriff,
Basic Channel,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harry Pussy,
Blake Baxter,
Kerri Chandler,
Siglo XX,
Henry Cow,
KRS-One,
Das Ding,
Man Eating Sloth,
Essential Logic,
Agitation Free,
The Offenders,
Desert Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
The Last Poets,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joe Smooth,
Roxy Music,
Joy Division,
Mr. Review,
T.S.O.L.,
Model 500,
Piero Umiliani,
Ohio Players,
Laurel Aitken,
Isaac Hayes,
Nirvana,
Spandau Ballet,
Moby Grape,
Archie Shepp,
The Electric Prunes,
Susan Cadogan,
The Saints,
Half Japanese,
Crash Course in Science,
Depeche Mode,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Association,
Junior Murvin,
Janne Schatter,
Cluster,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Public Enemy,
cv313,
Carl Craig,
Average White Band,
Flipper,
H. Thieme,
Easy Going,
Negative Approach,
Au Pairs,
Smog,
48th St. Collective,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.