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 Morocco and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Johnny Osbourne to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Oneida,
Scion,
Little Man,
The Sound,
The United States of America,
Joyce Sims,
T. Rex,
Mark Hollis,
The Monks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soulsonic Force,
Bizarre Inc.,
Echospace,
Nils Olav,
The Dirtbombs,
Chrome,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gabor Szabo,
Make Up,
Fugazi,
Black Moon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fortunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Q and Not U,
Jacques Brel,
Moebius,
Maurizio,
Moby Grape,
The Misunderstood,
Masters at Work,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barbara Tucker,
John Coltrane,
Marc Almond,
Shuggie Otis,
Theoretical Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q65,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hot Snakes,
Stetsasonic,
Dennis Brown,
Monolake,
Judy Mowatt,
LL Cool J,
Sixth Finger,
Altered Images,
Tom Boy,
ABBA,
Agitation Free,
The Monochrome Set,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Technova,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.