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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Don Cherry,
Crooked Eye,
Cameo,
Joensuu 1685,
Fela Kuti,
MC5,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Wake,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Vladislav Delay,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sight & Sound,
The Stooges,
Johnny Clarke,
Sällskapet,
Janne Schatter,
Ultra Naté,
X-102,
Sex Pistols,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nick Fraelich,
Sam Rivers,
Tom Boy,
Fugazi,
Max Romeo,
Anthony Braxton,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jerry's Kids,
Siglo XX,
Godley & Creme,
The Selecter,
Roy Ayers,
Liliput,
Boz Scaggs,
Alphaville,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Divine Comedy,
Todd Rundgren,
Lalann,
Marvin Gaye,
The Searchers,
Scion,
The Mojo Men,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Altered Images,
Young Marble Giants,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Womack,
John Lydon,
Brand Nubian,
Grey Daturas,
The Offenders,
Popol Vuh,
Skarface,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mo-Dettes,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.