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 Croatia and from Columbus.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Eve St. Jones to the techno 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Mills 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Malaria!,
Jerry's Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Andrew Hill,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Avey Tare,
Ken Boothe,
New Order,
Aural Exciters,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yaz,
Alice Coltrane,
Lucky Dragons,
The Mojo Men,
John Coltrane,
The Monks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Carl Craig,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Sheep,
Tommy Roe,
Nils Olav,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Neon Judgement,
Monolake,
Bush Tetras,
The Blues Magoos,
Sonic Youth,
Letta Mbulu,
Tom Boy,
Ponytail,
Kayak,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Basic Channel,
Skarface,
X-101,
Chris & Cosey,
World's Most,
Urselle,
Flash Fearless,
The Fortunes,
Rod Modell,
Anakelly,
Ultravox,
David Axelrod,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Negative Approach,
Radio Birdman,
Sällskapet,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soft Machine,
The Fall,
OOIOO,
Sam Rivers,
The Remains,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Human League,
Crime,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.