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 Gabon and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Godley & Creme,
Yusef Lateef,
The Selecter,
Scratch Acid,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bluetip,
New Order,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bill Wells,
The Walker Brothers,
X-102,
Freddie Wadling,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fat Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Au Pairs,
Qualms,
Yellowson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Holt,
Magma,
Clear Light,
Television,
Infiniti,
Flipper,
Crooked Eye,
Shoche,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slits,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Young Rascals,
Eric B and Rakim,
Erykah Badu,
The Mojo Men,
Heaven 17,
Amon Düül II,
Joy Division,
Mo-Dettes,
Banda Bassotti,
Josef K,
The Vogues,
Wasted Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joey Negro,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Copeland,
Fifty Foot Hose,
China Crisis,
Panda Bear,
Das Ding,
Symarip,
Tommy Roe,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultimate Spinach,
David Bowie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Livin' Joy,
Iggy Pop,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.