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 Sweden and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare 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 The Alarm Clocks to the grime 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Lou Christie,
The Standells,
The Real Kids,
A Certain Ratio,
Barrington Levy,
Bootsy Collins,
Nick Fraelich,
Kerri Chandler,
48th St. Collective,
a-ha,
Harry Pussy,
The Smiths,
Boogie Down Productions,
MC5,
DJ Sneak,
Johnny Osbourne,
Von Mondo,
Hot Snakes,
Toni Rubio,
Blake Baxter,
Rotary Connection,
The Pretty Things,
Monolake,
Fad Gadget,
Funkadelic,
Jacques Brel,
Mandrill,
Eve St. Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
The Moody Blues,
David Axelrod,
Magma,
Carl Craig,
Amon Düül,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare,
Liliput,
The Victims,
Nas,
Ponytail,
Gong,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Lydon,
Porter Ricks,
Hoover,
Nik Kershaw,
Faraquet,
Todd Terry,
Blossom Toes,
Crooked Eye,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masters at Work,
Monks,
The Techniques,
U.S. Maple,
Simply Red,
Cal Tjader,
Aswad,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.