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 France and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Avey Tare to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sound Behaviour,
Mark Hollis,
Royal Trux,
Depeche Mode,
Freddie Wadling,
John Lydon,
Ice-T,
The Doobie Brothers,
Make Up,
Bronski Beat,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Panda Bear,
Country Teasers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bootsy Collins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chris & Cosey,
The Blues Magoos,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Music Machine,
Blancmange,
Rekid,
Malaria!,
Mad Mike,
Dawn Penn,
The Names,
the Fania All-Stars,
Deepchord,
The Knickerbockers,
Thompson Twins,
Jacob Miller,
Blossom Toes,
Can,
Ohio Players,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harry Pussy,
Franke,
Organ,
The Real Kids,
The Smoke,
The Mummies,
Ponytail,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Slits,
Throbbing Gristle,
Little Man,
Qualms,
The Mojo Men,
The Fugs,
Basic Channel,
Neil Young,
Sight & Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
Roxy Music,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dennis Brown,
Black Flag,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.