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 Dominican Republic and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 linndrum 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 Ronnie Foster to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
The Golliwogs,
The Modern Lovers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wire,
Roy Ayers,
Radio Birdman,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
Alison Limerick,
Surgeon,
The Litter,
Niagra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eli Mardock,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Silicon Teens,
Talk Talk,
Laurel Aitken,
Pylon,
F. McDonald,
D'Angelo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Last Poets,
Cluster,
Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
Thompson Twins,
Sam Rivers,
Little Man,
Y Pants,
Marvin Gaye,
E-Dancer,
Unrelated Segments,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Knickerbockers,
David Bowie,
Prince Buster,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lucky Dragons,
Schoolly D,
B.T. Express,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stetsasonic,
The Cramps,
Lungfish,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ronnie Foster,
Juan Atkins,
The Fire Engines,
The Human League,
The Beau Brummels,
MDC,
Alton Ellis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.