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 Saudi Arabia and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Kurtis Blow to the grime 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
UT,
the Bar-Kays,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eli Mardock,
Porter Ricks,
The Fortunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scientists,
Mary Jane Girls,
Electric Prunes,
David McCallum,
Yaz,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sällskapet,
Joy Division,
Matthew Halsall,
Masters at Work,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bluetip,
Scott Walker,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Happenings,
Lungfish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
OOIOO,
The Remains,
Letta Mbulu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Erasure,
Roy Ayers,
Organ,
Jeff Mills,
Pantaleimon,
Underground Resistance,
Urselle,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eurythmics,
Wally Richardson,
Barrington Levy,
Groovy Waters,
Bobby Sherman,
Icehouse,
Main Source,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Hoover,
Dead Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Maurizio,
This Heat,
Morten Harket,
Pharoah Sanders,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.