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 Chile and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 Gang Green to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Sällskapet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Finger,
The Monks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Lightning Bolt,
Altered Images,
Zapp,
The Fuzztones,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare,
Tropical Tobacco,
D'Angelo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Motorama,
The Saints,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Last Poets,
Grey Daturas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rekid,
Leonard Cohen,
Connie Case,
Archie Shepp,
The Names,
The Sound,
Bauhaus,
K-Klass,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eurythmics,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
L. Decosne,
Hoover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
8 Eyed Spy,
Isaac Hayes,
Barbara Tucker,
The Young Rascals,
Neu!,
ABC,
Vladislav Delay,
Masters at Work,
Piero Umiliani,
Pylon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Excepter,
Janne Schatter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Laurel Aitken,
Stetsasonic,
The Music Machine,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.