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 Antigua and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Grandmaster Flash to the grime 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
Harmonia,
Andrew Hill,
Amon Düül II,
AZ,
Robert Görl,
Saccharine Trust,
Mary Jane Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
Peter and Kerry,
Television,
The Knickerbockers,
Cymande,
Panda Bear,
Iggy Pop,
Boz Scaggs,
The Move,
La Düsseldorf,
Deadbeat,
E-Dancer,
the Association,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare,
Thompson Twins,
Bad Manners,
The Blackbyrds,
Niagra,
Guru Guru,
Tim Buckley,
Buzzcocks,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Letta Mbulu,
The Index,
Joe Smooth,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Pretty Things,
Ludus,
Masters at Work,
The Fortunes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Wells,
Radio Birdman,
Pagans,
Dave Gahan,
Lower 48,
Anakelly,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nick Fraelich,
Morten Harket,
Judy Mowatt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
Juan Atkins,
Pulsallama,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Desert Stars,
Ice-T,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.