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 Micronesia and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Dual Sessions to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Nick Fraelich,
The Monochrome Set,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Axelrod,
Can,
Goldenarms,
Dark Day,
PIL,
Matthew Bourne,
Easy Going,
The Busters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Trojans,
Brass Construction,
Fela Kuti,
The Pretty Things,
Cybotron,
Interpol,
Swell Maps,
Alphaville,
Sound Behaviour,
Sixth Finger,
The Cure,
Ornette Coleman,
La Düsseldorf,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moleskins,
48th St. Collective,
Newcleus,
Swans,
Scott Walker,
Lalann,
Theoretical Girls,
OOIOO,
Grey Daturas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Wake,
World's Most,
Maleditus Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Max Romeo,
Reagan Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Banda Bassotti,
Mad Mike,
Thee Headcoats,
Yaz,
Essential Logic,
Mo-Dettes,
Inner City,
Todd Terry,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aswad,
Freddie Wadling,
Eden Ahbez,
Bill Near,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.