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 Niger and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 Letta Mbulu to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Interpol,
Slick Rick,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kurtis Blow,
Bluetip,
Talk Talk,
The Knickerbockers,
Ludus,
Amon Düül II,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scrapy,
Charles Mingus,
Joy Division,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fall,
KRS-One,
Wasted Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Morten Harket,
Absolute Body Control,
Kenny Larkin,
Pere Ubu,
Ornette Coleman,
Nils Olav,
Angry Samoans,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Motorama,
Rites of Spring,
The Toasters,
The Raincoats,
Minnie Riperton,
Das Ding,
Sister Nancy,
PIL,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brick,
Fat Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dave Clark Five,
kango's stein massive,
Technova,
L. Decosne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Surgeon,
Drexciya,
The Smiths,
8 Eyed Spy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eden Ahbez,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Urselle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DJ Sneak,
Thompson Twins,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.