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 Madagascar and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
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 snare 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 Eric Copeland to the electroclash 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
UT,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Howard Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marc Almond,
Hardrive,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dawn Penn,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arcadia,
The Smoke,
X-102,
Audionom,
Gong,
The Count Five,
Marmalade,
The Vogues,
Janne Schatter,
Jimmy McGriff,
X-101,
Warsaw,
Sarah Menescal,
Lakeside,
Roxette,
Clear Light,
The Moleskins,
The Gladiators,
Moby Grape,
Laurel Aitken,
Deadbeat,
the Soft Cell,
Trumans Water,
The Motions,
Pole,
The Star Department,
The Leaves,
Sparks,
World's Most,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Flag,
EPMD,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Al Stewart,
Marine Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alton Ellis,
MDC,
Eddi Front,
Man Parrish,
Wally Richardson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Seeds,
Aswad,
Circle Jerks,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.