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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Manchester.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Michael McDonald 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 Brick to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Thompson Twins,
Jimmy McGriff,
Adolescents,
Rufus Thomas,
Minutemen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Second Layer,
John Holt,
The Happenings,
Jeff Lynne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joensuu 1685,
Yaz,
New Order,
Bill Near,
Fluxion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Harry Pussy,
Steve Hackett,
Motorama,
Mad Mike,
The Vogues,
Grauzone,
F. McDonald,
Sonny Sharrock,
Panda Bear,
Joey Negro,
Organ,
These Immortal Souls,
Swell Maps,
Mandrill,
Black Bananas,
June Days,
Con Funk Shun,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Morten Harket,
One Last Wish,
Susan Cadogan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crooked Eye,
Infiniti,
Symarip,
David Bowie,
Ludus,
Colin Newman,
Kerri Chandler,
The Leaves,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Stetsasonic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lungfish,
Newcleus,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.