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 Korea South and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lightning Bolt to the jazz 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Sex Pistols,
Duran Duran,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hot Snakes,
Cal Tjader,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Divine Comedy,
Deakin,
Yusef Lateef,
It's A Beautiful Day,
John Holt,
Procol Harum,
Todd Rundgren,
Make Up,
Brick,
Amon Düül II,
Juan Atkins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fire Engines,
Chrome,
Charles Mingus,
EPMD,
Matthew Halsall,
Grauzone,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Aswad,
Don Cherry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bang On A Can,
The Leaves,
Wolf Eyes,
Mantronix,
Yaz,
PIL,
Fat Boys,
Organ,
Dual Sessions,
Joy Division,
Bobby Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tim Buckley,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Neu!,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Human League,
Accadde A,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gun Club,
Angry Samoans,
The Remains,
The J.B.'s,
Neil Young,
F. McDonald,
the Germs,
Clear Light,
Mission of Burma,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bush Tetras,
Faust,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.