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 Thailand and from London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator 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 Dark Day to the grunge 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Cheater Slicks,
Sarah Menescal,
June of 44,
La Düsseldorf,
Bad Manners,
Charles Mingus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lindisfarne,
Pagans,
Khruangbin,
Bluetip,
Organ,
Skriet,
Index,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unrelated Segments,
Joy Division,
Soul Sonic Force,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ituana,
T. Rex,
Eve St. Jones,
D'Angelo,
Roy Ayers,
Wasted Youth,
Pantaleimon,
Todd Terry,
Drexciya,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rufus Thomas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Cale,
Robert Wyatt,
Swans,
Tom Boy,
Technova,
Connie Case,
The Electric Prunes,
Buzzcocks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Slackers,
Ten City,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Lydon,
Vainqueur,
Ultravox,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gang Starr,
Roxette,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter and Kerry,
Dual Sessions,
Japan,
World's Most,
Barclay James Harvest,
Blossom Toes,
Barbara Tucker,
Rotary Connection,
Harry Pussy,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.