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 Malaysia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
The American Breed,
The Evens,
Isaac Hayes,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Pop Group,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
EPMD,
Essential Logic,
Anakelly,
Bobby Womack,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The J.B.'s,
Jerry's Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Christie,
Symarip,
Swell Maps,
Cecil Taylor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Spandau Ballet,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Altered Images,
Hot Snakes,
The Red Krayola,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Maleditus Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Trojans,
Sonic Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Judy Mowatt,
Vainqueur,
Curtis Mayfield,
Q65,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Unwound,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra,
Zapp,
Model 500,
Magma,
Cheater Slicks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Albert Ayler,
Spoonie Gee,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric Copeland,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Green,
the Soft Cell,
Make Up,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Malaria!,
Youth Brigade,
JFA,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.