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 Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba 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 Iggy Pop to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Susan Cadogan,
Brass Construction,
Bad Manners,
Rosa Yemen,
The Smiths,
June of 44,
Tim Buckley,
Toni Rubio,
Basic Channel,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Graham Central Station,
The Selecter,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
X-Ray Spex,
Black Flag,
Cybotron,
Hoover,
Sonic Youth,
Grauzone,
Alison Limerick,
Heaven 17,
Sugar Minott,
Big Daddy Kane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Faraquet,
T.S.O.L.,
the Germs,
Roxette,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Arab on Radar,
The Young Rascals,
Kas Product,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pierre Henry,
Donald Byrd,
Steve Hackett,
The Red Krayola,
Essential Logic,
Eurythmics,
Michelle Simonal,
The Angels of Light,
Little Man,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pole,
New Order,
ABC,
Marc Almond,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Christie,
Pylon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronnie Foster,
Cheater Slicks,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.