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 Slovenia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 Blancmange 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
The Divine Comedy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Bar-Kays,
David McCallum,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Pop Group,
ABBA,
Bob Dylan,
Chrome,
The Zeros,
Stetsasonic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Circle Jerks,
Eurythmics,
Boogie Down Productions,
LL Cool J,
Lalann,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Music Machine,
Smog,
Television,
Khruangbin,
Inner City,
Ponytail,
Roxette,
Peter & Gordon,
Sugar Minott,
Wally Richardson,
Pere Ubu,
Bill Wells,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
June Days,
Scientists,
Youth Brigade,
Thee Headcoats,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joyce Sims,
Rosa Yemen,
Nirvana,
Deepchord,
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Average White Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Lydon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Delta 5,
Moss Icon,
Sparks,
The Seeds,
The Moody Blues,
48th St. Collective,
Section 25,
The Modern Lovers,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Sherman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ohio Players,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Order,
Tres Demented,
Excepter,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.