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 Colombia and from London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Reuben Wilson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Desert Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
ABBA,
Lebanon Hanover,
Das Ding,
Qualms,
Andrew Hill,
Yellowson,
Oneida,
JFA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Five Americans,
Can,
Robert Wyatt,
Outsiders,
Jeru the Damaja,
48th St. Collective,
Smog,
U.S. Maple,
The Pop Group,
Letta Mbulu,
Agent Orange,
Nils Olav,
Guru Guru,
Cal Tjader,
the Association,
Monks,
Pantytec,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Christie,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scientists,
Minor Threat,
The Offenders,
Heaven 17,
Joe Finger,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Toni Rubio,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bob Dylan,
Young Marble Giants,
Ice-T,
Kaleidoscope,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gun Club,
Mr. Review,
Trumans Water,
The Cramps,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Buckinghams,
The Misunderstood,
Fatback Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeff Mills,
Blossom Toes,
Section 25,
Hot Snakes,
Don Cherry,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.