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 Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nas to the disco 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Amazonics,
Joey Negro,
Ohio Players,
Lindisfarne,
Youth Brigade,
The Misunderstood,
Technova,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
Moss Icon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sun City Girls,
Gang of Four,
Trumans Water,
Suicide,
Drexciya,
Deepchord,
Rekid,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultimate Spinach,
In Retrospect,
Neu!,
The Saints,
Ludus,
The Blackbyrds,
Eve St. Jones,
T.S.O.L.,
Albert Ayler,
The Skatalites,
Jawbox,
Saccharine Trust,
Sight & Sound,
Skarface,
Marvin Gaye,
The Stooges,
Magazine,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gastr Del Sol,
This Heat,
New York Dolls,
The Divine Comedy,
Janne Schatter,
Ice-T,
Agitation Free,
Morten Harket,
Yazoo,
Scott Walker,
Flash Fearless,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Basic Channel,
Simply Red,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sun Ra,
Soul Sonic Force,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.