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 Bhutan and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 U.S. Maple to the rock 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Pus,
Robert Hood,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Intrusion,
H. Thieme,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rotary Connection,
Newcleus,
The Mummies,
Eli Mardock,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Selecter,
The Cure,
John Foxx,
The Index,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Smiths,
Gang of Four,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tim Buckley,
Man Parrish,
Symarip,
Vladislav Delay,
Average White Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dual Sessions,
Scott Walker,
The Music Machine,
Bronski Beat,
Jacques Brel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Sheep,
New Order,
Bobby Byrd,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alphaville,
Ronan,
The Young Rascals,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Five Americans,
The Evens,
Bizarre Inc.,
Clear Light,
Cluster,
Sugar Minott,
Agent Orange,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brass Construction,
Porter Ricks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Dirtbombs,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Last Poets,
The Names,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Surgeon,
the Association,
The Blues Magoos,
Pagans,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.