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 Peru and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 DJ Style to the grime 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Skatalites,
Don Cherry,
Morten Harket,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cluster,
Kenny Larkin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hoover,
a-ha,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eurythmics,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Young Marble Giants,
Kurtis Blow,
Swans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Derrick Morgan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Motorama,
Groovy Waters,
Scientists,
Aural Exciters,
Make Up,
Freddie Wadling,
Eric Copeland,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Near,
Cheater Slicks,
Darondo,
Tres Demented,
Vainqueur,
Bush Tetras,
Black Moon,
Los Fastidios,
Jeff Mills,
Roxette,
Joyce Sims,
Slave,
Von Mondo,
Boredoms,
Can,
Anakelly,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Human League,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Unrelated Segments,
The Velvet Underground,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mark Hollis,
The Dead C,
The Gladiators,
Derrick May,
Marine Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Lydon,
The Fugs,
CMW,
Black Sheep,
E-Dancer,
Robert Hood,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.