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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grauzone to the electroclash 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
June of 44,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Khruangbin,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review,
Morten Harket,
Kaleidoscope,
Kas Product,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
L. Decosne,
Susan Cadogan,
Blancmange,
The Searchers,
Kurtis Blow,
Ronnie Foster,
Shoche,
DNA,
World's Most,
Amon Düül II,
Toni Rubio,
The Mojo Men,
Ludus,
Spoonie Gee,
Bush Tetras,
Visage,
Stetsasonic,
Eurythmics,
Deadbeat,
The Saints,
Pierre Henry,
Joyce Sims,
Nils Olav,
Little Man,
X-102,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ralphi Rosario,
Popol Vuh,
Negative Approach,
The Dirtbombs,
Gabor Szabo,
The Durutti Column,
Al Stewart,
the Sonics,
Harry Pussy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
James White and The Blacks,
Pulsallama,
The Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
Slick Rick,
Soulsonic Force,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boredoms,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lungfish,
Reagan Youth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.