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 Liberia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Neu! 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Carl Craig,
Drexciya,
The Young Rascals,
Curtis Mayfield,
Byron Stingily,
Althea and Donna,
Fat Boys,
Lakeside,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Johnny Clarke,
Chris Corsano,
Tears for Fears,
Subhumans,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gories,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jesper Dahlback,
Freddie Wadling,
Sex Pistols,
Sam Rivers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hashim,
Al Stewart,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare,
ABBA,
Camouflage,
Rites of Spring,
Yaz,
Youth Brigade,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Invisible,
Minnie Riperton,
Dave Gahan,
Maurizio,
Infiniti,
The Fuzztones,
The Cramps,
Amon Düül,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Supertramp,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Standells,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
June of 44,
Swans,
Outsiders,
Charles Mingus,
Man Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
Los Fastidios,
Popol Vuh,
The Cowsills,
the Association,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Smiths,
Camberwell Now,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.