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 Austria and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Idris Muhammad to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ultravox,
Piero Umiliani,
Stiv Bators,
Matthew Halsall,
Roger Hodgson,
Deepchord,
Grauzone,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-101,
Dual Sessions,
Brothers Johnson,
Morten Harket,
Sarah Menescal,
The Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Womack,
Duran Duran,
Moby Grape,
Thompson Twins,
Visage,
Bill Near,
New Order,
The Toasters,
Tubeway Army,
Mission of Burma,
Silicon Teens,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Interpol,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Surgeon,
Khruangbin,
Liliput,
Harmonia,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fugs,
The Leaves,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Aural Exciters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Michelle Simonal,
Todd Rundgren,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Charles Mingus,
Black Moon,
The Offenders,
The Names,
Public Enemy,
Royal Trux,
Mark Hollis,
The Seeds,
T. Rex,
Ohio Players,
Rosa Yemen,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
Hardrive,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Human League,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.