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 Paraguay and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
The Last Poets,
Agent Orange,
Aswad,
The Saints,
Shoche,
Pulsallama,
Tommy Roe,
Scrapy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Slits,
Blake Baxter,
The Neon Judgement,
Marmalade,
Bobby Womack,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Letta Mbulu,
Lightning Bolt,
Dual Sessions,
James White and The Blacks,
DJ Sneak,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang Green,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cecil Taylor,
H. Thieme,
Althea and Donna,
John Lydon,
Livin' Joy,
Ohio Players,
Wire,
Jimmy McGriff,
Khruangbin,
Zapp,
Essential Logic,
Pole,
The Kinks,
Juan Atkins,
Godley & Creme,
Radiopuhelimet,
Carl Craig,
Ultimate Spinach,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Monks,
DJ Style,
Panda Bear,
Brass Construction,
Tropical Tobacco,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Star Department,
Bronski Beat,
Black Pus,
Crime,
Dave Gahan,
The Martian,
Fluxion,
Angry Samoans,
Neil Young,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Gladiators,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.