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 Jamaica and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 Erasure to the crunk 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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,
Magazine,
Sound Behaviour,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra,
Rotary Connection,
8 Eyed Spy,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter and Kerry,
Silicon Teens,
The Gories,
The Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Monolake,
the Normal,
Ludus,
Hoover,
The Smiths,
Max Romeo,
Althea and Donna,
Crispy Ambulance,
EPMD,
Pylon,
Danielle Patucci,
Blossom Toes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
DJ Style,
The Velvet Underground,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Martian,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Star Department,
The Blues Magoos,
Minutemen,
the Soft Cell,
Derrick Morgan,
Zapp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Drexciya,
Marcia Griffiths,
Simply Red,
Gerry Rafferty,
H. Thieme,
Yusef Lateef,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suburban Knight,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quando Quango,
Minor Threat,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fad Gadget,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Moon,
The Black Dice,
Arthur Verocai,
Connie Case,
Black Pus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erykah Badu,
Dark Day,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.