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 Denmark and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Trumans Water to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Bauhaus,
Harry Pussy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Maurizio,
Archie Shepp,
The Busters,
The Cramps,
Country Teasers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nils Olav,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Peter and Kerry,
Liliput,
Q and Not U,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Quantec,
Hashim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
48th St. Collective,
Inner City,
Ultravox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Clear Light,
Davy DMX,
Lalann,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jacob Miller,
The Motions,
Kevin Saunderson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang of Four,
Flipper,
Jesper Dahlback,
Amazonics,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Monolake,
Derrick Morgan,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Skarface,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Martian,
Soul II Soul,
Sex Pistols,
Black Sheep,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eric Dolphy,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Offenders,
The Alarm Clocks,
ABBA,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Yazoo,
These Immortal Souls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marvin Gaye,
Faust,
Gichy Dan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.