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 Ukraine and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sister Nancy 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Tremeloes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The J.B.'s,
The Searchers,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Zeros,
Ronan,
ABC,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sugar Minott,
Can,
Davy DMX,
The Durutti Column,
Sam Rivers,
F. McDonald,
Kenny Larkin,
Clear Light,
The Fall,
Roxy Music,
Barry Ungar,
Sarah Menescal,
The Vogues,
Negative Approach,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lebanon Hanover,
UT,
Moebius,
Gang Starr,
Wasted Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hoover,
The Last Poets,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reuben Wilson,
The Standells,
Bronski Beat,
Letta Mbulu,
Matthew Bourne,
Glenn Branca,
Freddie Wadling,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crash Course in Science,
Nik Kershaw,
Piero Umiliani,
Sällskapet,
T.S.O.L.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Womack,
48th St. Collective,
Carl Craig,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wings,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Seeds,
Buzzcocks,
Mo-Dettes,
Jacob Miller,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.