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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Archie Shepp to the crunk 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marshall Jefferson,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Smiths,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
Girls At Our Best!,
Monolake,
48th St. Collective,
Sarah Menescal,
F. McDonald,
Bad Manners,
R.M.O.,
Nico,
Pussy Galore,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Basic Channel,
Second Layer,
China Crisis,
Althea and Donna,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Magazine,
Joe Finger,
Carl Craig,
The Vogues,
Jacob Miller,
Pantytec,
Ultra Naté,
Heaven 17,
Bush Tetras,
Pantaleimon,
June of 44,
Schoolly D,
10cc,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Selecter,
Cymande,
Man Parrish,
The Remains,
Faust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yellowson,
The Martian,
Bootsy Collins,
Pere Ubu,
Amazonics,
Half Japanese,
the Normal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement,
Newcleus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Anthony Braxton,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.