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 United States and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Index to the grime 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Accadde A,
Ornette Coleman,
Lower 48,
Shoche,
Deadbeat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sandy B,
The J.B.'s,
The Count Five,
Trumans Water,
Amazonics,
Television,
Kerrie Biddell,
Severed Heads,
Black Moon,
Roy Ayers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Barracudas,
Lungfish,
Bluetip,
DNA,
Jandek,
Minutemen,
This Heat,
Banda Bassotti,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Goldenarms,
Colin Newman,
The Techniques,
X-102,
Icehouse,
The Human League,
Henry Cow,
Skriet,
Drexciya,
Clear Light,
Sister Nancy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arcadia,
Theoretical Girls,
B.T. Express,
Bad Manners,
David Bowie,
Danielle Patucci,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Au Pairs,
E-Dancer,
Tommy Roe,
Joe Finger,
Graham Central Station,
Zapp,
Bang On A Can,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gun Club,
Skaos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Steve Hackett,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smoke,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron.
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.