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 Germany and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Selecter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Morten Harket,
Hashim,
Vainqueur,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Young Rascals,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Albert Ayler,
Sex Pistols,
Skarface,
CMW,
The Remains,
Tom Boy,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Starr,
Suicide,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deepchord,
Symarip,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lungfish,
Bluetip,
Magazine,
EPMD,
R.M.O.,
Blancmange,
The Angels of Light,
Chris Corsano,
Main Source,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Names,
Gabor Szabo,
Japan,
B.T. Express,
Toni Rubio,
One Last Wish,
Arcadia,
Marine Girls,
Trumans Water,
Maurizio,
Pantytec,
Drexciya,
Funky Four + One,
Rufus Thomas,
Lalann,
Gregory Isaacs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter and Kerry,
New Age Steppers,
Erasure,
Lou Christie,
Yazoo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.