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 Iceland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Niagra to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Moon,
Pere Ubu,
Dark Day,
Reagan Youth,
The Seeds,
Scott Walker,
Model 500,
Pantaleimon,
Eurythmics,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Last Poets,
Barrington Levy,
Susan Cadogan,
Sister Nancy,
The Real Kids,
Buzzcocks,
Black Bananas,
Camouflage,
Eric Copeland,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June of 44,
Andrew Hill,
Underground Resistance,
Mission of Burma,
Das Ding,
Goldenarms,
Livin' Joy,
Subhumans,
Spoonie Gee,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Wyatt,
Tom Boy,
FM Einheit,
The Sound,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blossom Toes,
Freddie Wadling,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Derrick Morgan,
Peter and Kerry,
Deadbeat,
Boz Scaggs,
Roxy Music,
Whodini,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sarah Menescal,
The Doors,
MC5,
Tubeway Army,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mr. Review,
Basic Channel,
Judy Mowatt,
Nick Fraelich,
Joe Smooth,
Rufus Thomas,
Sandy B,
Duran Duran,
Gastr Del Sol,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.