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 Turkmenistan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 Electric Prunes 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Robert Görl,
Unwound,
Skriet,
K-Klass,
Robert Hood,
Spandau Ballet,
the Slits,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Erykah Badu,
Graham Central Station,
Matthew Bourne,
The Standells,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Starr,
the Association,
Amazonics,
Harmonia,
The Evens,
Marmalade,
Wings,
Porter Ricks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Glambeats Corp.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Anakelly,
Depeche Mode,
New York Dolls,
Audionom,
The Vogues,
The Five Americans,
Alice Coltrane,
The Mojo Men,
Prince Buster,
The Stooges,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Terrestrial Tones,
Zero Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Black Pus,
Ponytail,
Main Source,
The Kinks,
John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magazine,
Johnny Clarke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
The Doobie Brothers,
Donny Hathaway,
8 Eyed Spy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ludus,
Sugar Minott,
Pere Ubu,
Lebanon Hanover,
MC5,
Lucky Dragons,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.