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 Colombia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Crooked Eye to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Juan Atkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pere Ubu,
Lungfish,
Mark Hollis,
Fat Boys,
The Moody Blues,
The Selecter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gichy Dan,
Pantytec,
Angry Samoans,
Lindisfarne,
The Fortunes,
R.M.O.,
Niagra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Doors,
Section 25,
Hashim,
Amazonics,
DNA,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ronnie Foster,
The Smoke,
Livin' Joy,
Ultra Naté,
Glambeats Corp.,
Danielle Patucci,
Accadde A,
Alphaville,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Patti Smith,
Flash Fearless,
Sonny Sharrock,
Warsaw,
The Fugs,
Public Enemy,
Trumans Water,
Robert Görl,
Black Flag,
Deepchord,
Cheater Slicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra,
Crooked Eye,
Kevin Saunderson,
Panda Bear,
Mad Mike,
Fad Gadget,
Ronan,
The Residents,
Slave,
Parry Music,
Delta 5,
Bob Dylan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.