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 South Africa and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Manila and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Eden Ahbez,
Heaven 17,
These Immortal Souls,
the Normal,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Adolescents,
The Techniques,
Whodini,
The Angels of Light,
Visage,
Grauzone,
Carl Craig,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fatback Band,
Robert Wyatt,
London Community Gospel Choir,
CMW,
The Saints,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Bar-Kays,
Funkadelic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Pus,
The Walker Brothers,
D'Angelo,
Eddi Front,
DJ Style,
Robert Görl,
Fad Gadget,
Angry Samoans,
the Slits,
The Skatalites,
Isaac Hayes,
Thee Headcoats,
Unwound,
Henry Cow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hashim,
L. Decosne,
Scan 7,
Gichy Dan,
Ossler,
LL Cool J,
John Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
The Human League,
Ultravox,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Wells,
Maleditus Sound,
Flipper,
UT,
The Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Five Americans,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.