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 Belarus and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James White and The Blacks 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
R.M.O.,
Goldenarms,
Hoover,
Ten City,
This Heat,
Grey Daturas,
Thompson Twins,
Barrington Levy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Echospace,
Sun Ra,
Surgeon,
CMW,
Model 500,
The Fall,
Urselle,
Rosa Yemen,
Scrapy,
Negative Approach,
The Pretty Things,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soul II Soul,
The Mummies,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tomorrow,
In Retrospect,
The Knickerbockers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yusef Lateef,
Motorama,
ABC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tubeway Army,
Black Flag,
Robert Wyatt,
Little Man,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Swans,
ABBA,
Sun City Girls,
The Skatalites,
Camberwell Now,
The Pop Group,
Cameo,
Kayak,
Radio Birdman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Connie Case,
Hasil Adkins,
Adolescents,
Alison Limerick,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
Curtis Mayfield,
Flash Fearless,
Joensuu 1685,
the Human League,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.