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 Haiti and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Maleditus Sound to the techno 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quadrant,
Quando Quango,
Andrew Hill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Siglo XX,
Chrome,
Organ,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Martian,
Au Pairs,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Human League,
the Slits,
Marvin Gaye,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Saccharine Trust,
Ludus,
Yellowson,
The Last Poets,
In Retrospect,
Anthony Braxton,
D'Angelo,
Janne Schatter,
Eurythmics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Flipper,
Harry Pussy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sugar Minott,
Pussy Galore,
Ten City,
MDC,
Zero Boys,
The American Breed,
The Grass Roots,
David Bowie,
La Düsseldorf,
John Cale,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jerry's Kids,
Stiv Bators,
H. Thieme,
The Motions,
The Barracudas,
Amon Düül II,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Smog,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Junior Murvin,
The Cowsills,
Q and Not U,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.