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 Kosovo and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Bobby Sherman to the funk 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Simply Red,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bronski Beat,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Slits,
Bad Manners,
Ralphi Rosario,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Infiniti,
Mr. Review,
The Kinks,
Reagan Youth,
Scion,
Agent Orange,
Au Pairs,
Agitation Free,
The Misunderstood,
Sonic Youth,
Radiopuhelimet,
Darondo,
The Last Poets,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Deadbeat,
The Mummies,
Magma,
the Normal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lower 48,
Bobby Byrd,
Roxy Music,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Television Personalities,
Soul II Soul,
Talk Talk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Porter Ricks,
These Immortal Souls,
Marmalade,
Fatback Band,
Pantaleimon,
Loose Ends,
The Victims,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultravox,
Essential Logic,
Crash Course in Science,
James White and The Blacks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radio Birdman,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fear,
Unrelated Segments,
Ohio Players,
Drexciya,
Mad Mike,
The Shadows of Knight,
David Bowie,
Amon Düül,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.