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 Portugal and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
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 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 The Angels of Light to the dance 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Radio Birdman,
Rufus Thomas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lucky Dragons,
Wire,
Quando Quango,
Oneida,
Slave,
Grey Daturas,
Nik Kershaw,
Visage,
Pharoah Sanders,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roxette,
Black Moon,
The Standells,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barbara Tucker,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scion,
Danielle Patucci,
Robert Hood,
Cheater Slicks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Prince Buster,
Porter Ricks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joe Smooth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suburban Knight,
Lalann,
Barclay James Harvest,
Quadrant,
Barrington Levy,
Fat Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Womack,
Stockholm Monsters,
Warsaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Selecter,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sun Ra,
The Doobie Brothers,
Spoonie Gee,
Pere Ubu,
Marmalade,
Amon Düül,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crispian St. Peters,
Subhumans,
Altered Images,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Piero Umiliani,
Colin Newman,
Bronski Beat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.