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 Dominica and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ornette Coleman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Supertramp,
LL Cool J,
Gang Starr,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sound,
Intrusion,
Alphaville,
Roxette,
UT,
Depeche Mode,
The Smoke,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Banda Bassotti,
Y Pants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Max Romeo,
Nils Olav,
Wally Richardson,
Ronan,
MDC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fall,
Stetsasonic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kenny Larkin,
Organ,
F. McDonald,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Smog,
Quantec,
The Real Kids,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobby Womack,
Matthew Halsall,
The Vogues,
Nik Kershaw,
Joe Finger,
Bob Dylan,
Can,
Das Ding,
Roger Hodgson,
Michelle Simonal,
Faust,
Moebius,
Deepchord,
Vladislav Delay,
Idris Muhammad,
Albert Ayler,
Don Cherry,
The Fortunes,
Yusef Lateef,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Christie,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Modern Lovers,
Fatback Band,
The Music Machine,
Symarip,
Maurizio,
David Bowie,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.