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 Turkmenistan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Spoonie Gee to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Bar-Kays,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Erasure,
Morten Harket,
Rites of Spring,
The Sonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Porter Ricks,
Buzzcocks,
Make Up,
Outsiders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rufus Thomas,
Brick,
Soft Machine,
E-Dancer,
Lou Christie,
The New Christs,
Scan 7,
The Move,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Pretty Things,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nik Kershaw,
Brothers Johnson,
Skriet,
Wolf Eyes,
Alton Ellis,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Flash Fearless,
F. McDonald,
Peter and Kerry,
Pylon,
Jacques Brel,
The Moody Blues,
Gastr Del Sol,
Michelle Simonal,
Tubeway Army,
Bootsy Collins,
Pussy Galore,
Kayak,
Procol Harum,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Godley & Creme,
Leonard Cohen,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Tremeloes,
Jeff Lynne,
Nils Olav,
Sex Pistols,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Buckinghams,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barry Ungar,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hasil Adkins,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.