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 Nauru and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barbara Tucker to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
The Count Five,
Faraquet,
The American Breed,
Juan Atkins,
The Fire Engines,
Gang of Four,
Altered Images,
Neil Young,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Litter,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Zero Boys,
Janne Schatter,
Stereo Dub,
The Real Kids,
Scion,
The Neon Judgement,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Connie Case,
The Monks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Surgeon,
Wings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ten City,
Sexual Harrassment,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Laurel Aitken,
Suicide,
KRS-One,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fuzztones,
Whodini,
Trumans Water,
Minny Pops,
The Move,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crime,
Roy Ayers,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gladiators,
Ohio Players,
the Association,
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Wyatt,
Jawbox,
E-Dancer,
The Five Americans,
UT,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Terry,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
New Age Steppers,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Skatalites,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.