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 Fiji and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Fela Kuti to the rap 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Golliwogs,
Jacob Miller,
The Moody Blues,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barbara Tucker,
Dave Gahan,
Porter Ricks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Prunes,
The Modern Lovers,
The Seeds,
the Normal,
Todd Terry,
Hoover,
Soft Cell,
Soft Machine,
Vainqueur,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ten City,
Roxy Music,
Patti Smith,
KRS-One,
Brick,
Ultravox,
The Slackers,
DNA,
The Leaves,
The Monks,
Average White Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blues Magoos,
Goldenarms,
Stereo Dub,
Minutemen,
Funky Four + One,
Howard Jones,
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra,
Moebius,
John Foxx,
Pantytec,
Khruangbin,
The Blackbyrds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Audionom,
Delta 5,
Brand Nubian,
cv313,
Gang Gang Dance,
Zero Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Angry Samoans,
Alton Ellis,
Skaos,
The Motions,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.