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 Solomon Islands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Dennis Brown to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Green,
Aloha Tigers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gong,
Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wally Richardson,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Durutti Column,
Minor Threat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arab on Radar,
The Evens,
Underground Resistance,
DJ Sneak,
The Leaves,
Sex Pistols,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Tears for Fears,
Peter & Gordon,
Roy Ayers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Moebius,
The Seeds,
Wolf Eyes,
Heaven 17,
Radio Birdman,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mantronix,
Bad Manners,
John Coltrane,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ossler,
Roxette,
The Remains,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brass Construction,
Henry Cow,
John Holt,
Andrew Hill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Index,
The Cure,
Newcleus,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Skatalites,
Surgeon,
This Heat,
Sun Ra,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Country Teasers,
Jeff Mills,
Mad Mike,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Khruangbin,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.