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 Cuba and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fad Gadget to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Ronan,
Anthony Braxton,
R.M.O.,
Technova,
Y Pants,
The Star Department,
X-102,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Clarke,
Moby Grape,
The Cure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fatback Band,
Make Up,
Rod Modell,
Ten City,
The Misunderstood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Wake,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fugazi,
The Detroit Cobras,
Adolescents,
Todd Rundgren,
Cluster,
John Lydon,
Yazoo,
Magma,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barry Ungar,
The Tremeloes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ken Boothe,
The Human League,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Dolphy,
Man Parrish,
Eden Ahbez,
The Knickerbockers,
Flash Fearless,
Jesper Dahlback,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Fela Kuti,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Birthday Party,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The New Christs,
Chris Corsano,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Susan Cadogan,
Grauzone,
the Association,
Anakelly,
48th St. Collective,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
OOIOO,
Model 500,
DJ Style,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.