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 Beijing.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Grandmaster Flash to the dance 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siglo XX,
Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare,
Section 25,
Ralphi Rosario,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Niagra,
Guru Guru,
K-Klass,
Camberwell Now,
Masters at Work,
Scrapy,
Harmonia,
Groovy Waters,
Glenn Branca,
The Victims,
Television Personalities,
The Smoke,
Japan,
Vladislav Delay,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Human League,
Thee Headcoats,
Jesper Dahlback,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Coltrane,
Albert Ayler,
The Standells,
The Gladiators,
Darondo,
Crime,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Cale,
Ronnie Foster,
Isaac Hayes,
X-101,
Depeche Mode,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Mills,
Quando Quango,
Mars,
Negative Approach,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Soft Cell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sex Pistols,
48th St. Collective,
Grauzone,
the Swans,
The Busters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Q65,
Johnny Osbourne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Sherman,
a-ha,
UT,
Bauhaus,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.