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 Barbados and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes 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 Blossom Toes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pantytec,
Ultra Naté,
Dark Day,
U.S. Maple,
Ituana,
Oneida,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Womack,
John Foxx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suicide,
Sound Behaviour,
The Misunderstood,
Anthony Braxton,
Idris Muhammad,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sällskapet,
K-Klass,
The Techniques,
The Birthday Party,
Soul II Soul,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
Alison Limerick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Spandau Ballet,
Radiopuhelimet,
Liliput,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ultravox,
Crispian St. Peters,
Blossom Toes,
Sister Nancy,
Easy Going,
Intrusion,
Marine Girls,
Babytalk,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nation of Ulysses,
Matthew Bourne,
Section 25,
Jacques Brel,
The Skatalites,
In Retrospect,
Underground Resistance,
Sarah Menescal,
Junior Murvin,
Mo-Dettes,
Rites of Spring,
Essential Logic,
Albert Ayler,
John Holt,
Bad Manners,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fuzztones,
Negative Approach,
Radiohead,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.