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 Qatar and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crispy Ambulance to the disco 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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Lou Christie,
One Last Wish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Byron Stingily,
The Techniques,
Hardrive,
Magma,
Althea and Donna,
Delta 5,
Main Source,
The Gories,
Black Sheep,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roy Ayers,
Skaos,
Technova,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pet Shop Boys,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeff Lynne,
Amon Düül,
Tim Buckley,
Agitation Free,
The Walker Brothers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bobby Womack,
Rufus Thomas,
Lindisfarne,
Mr. Review,
Colin Newman,
Hoover,
Gil Scott Heron,
Robert Görl,
Eric B and Rakim,
Quadrant,
Royal Trux,
Shuggie Otis,
Radiohead,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Blackbyrds,
Slave,
Danielle Patucci,
Glenn Branca,
Scan 7,
D'Angelo,
Todd Terry,
Rod Modell,
a-ha,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Section 25,
The Searchers,
David Axelrod,
Joey Negro,
Davy DMX,
Intrusion,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
L. Decosne,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.