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 Norway and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 Scientists to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Derrick May,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Starr,
The Mummies,
The Zeros,
Nas,
Deadbeat,
DJ Style,
UT,
Massinfluence,
Spoonie Gee,
Minny Pops,
Fat Boys,
Niagra,
Sam Rivers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ice-T,
the Normal,
June of 44,
Bad Manners,
Kayak,
Index,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Oneida,
Faraquet,
The Knickerbockers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kaleidoscope,
The Tremeloes,
Andrew Hill,
Alison Limerick,
The Barracudas,
Dark Day,
X-101,
June Days,
Vladislav Delay,
The Remains,
New Age Steppers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pulsallama,
The Doobie Brothers,
Simply Red,
Man Parrish,
T.S.O.L.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The American Breed,
Main Source,
Nick Fraelich,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Tears for Fears,
Buzzcocks,
Rod Modell,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Japan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Trumans Water,
Ronnie Foster,
Magazine,
The Techniques,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.