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 Austria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bootsy Collins,
Stetsasonic,
The Cure,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flipper,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fat Boys,
Suicide,
La Düsseldorf,
Ituana,
Camouflage,
Godley & Creme,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Kinks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Slackers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lou Christie,
K-Klass,
Whodini,
Letta Mbulu,
Jerry's Kids,
Radio Birdman,
The Tremeloes,
The Stooges,
Henry Cow,
Hashim,
Hot Snakes,
The Count Five,
Arcadia,
The Busters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
a-ha,
Masters at Work,
Robert Görl,
The Evens,
Soft Cell,
Black Pus,
Kenny Larkin,
Goldenarms,
The Moody Blues,
Radiopuhelimet,
Andrew Hill,
Dual Sessions,
The Detroit Cobras,
Freddie Wadling,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Sonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobby Womack,
Pussy Galore,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sugar Minott,
Yusef Lateef,
Nas,
Graham Central Station,
Brand Nubian,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.