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 the UAE and from Accra.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wally Richardson to the rap 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Delon & Dalcan,
Spandau Ballet,
Simply Red,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Smog,
Sandy B,
the Association,
Darondo,
Robert Hood,
Bill Near,
Neu!,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rakim,
Jeff Lynne,
Ossler,
Barclay James Harvest,
The American Breed,
Derrick Morgan,
Goldenarms,
the Sonics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Prince Buster,
Wasted Youth,
The Remains,
Whodini,
Wally Richardson,
Heaven 17,
F. McDonald,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eve St. Jones,
Fear,
Big Daddy Kane,
FM Einheit,
The Human League,
The Busters,
Ronan,
Das Ding,
The Zeros,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camouflage,
Roger Hodgson,
The Stooges,
Eric Dolphy,
Marc Almond,
Agitation Free,
Bluetip,
June Days,
Jacob Miller,
Chris Corsano,
Young Marble Giants,
Jandek,
Black Moon,
Yusef Lateef,
Can,
Lee Hazlewood,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.