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 Bolivia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Aswad to the electroclash 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Soft Machine,
Henry Cow,
Blake Baxter,
The Golliwogs,
Khruangbin,
The Victims,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ituana,
Porter Ricks,
Flash Fearless,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swans,
Robert Hood,
Pussy Galore,
Animal Collective,
Swell Maps,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Absolute Body Control,
The Human League,
Shoche,
Duran Duran,
The Sonics,
June of 44,
Pet Shop Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Juan Atkins,
Lower 48,
Amon Düül,
Interpol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ornette Coleman,
Radio Birdman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aswad,
Yaz,
John Foxx,
The New Christs,
Joey Negro,
Brothers Johnson,
Aaron Thompson,
Parry Music,
The Black Dice,
Byron Stingily,
PIL,
Arcadia,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Vainqueur,
The Durutti Column,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sarah Menescal,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heaven 17,
Isaac Hayes,
Peter and Kerry,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid,
James White and The Blacks,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.