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 the UAE and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Kool Moe Dee to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sonic Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Funkadelic,
John Holt,
The Evens,
Hot Snakes,
Boz Scaggs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eve St. Jones,
The Buckinghams,
The Detroit Cobras,
Interpol,
David McCallum,
Lungfish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pantaleimon,
Maurizio,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bronski Beat,
The Litter,
Black Flag,
Monks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jacques Brel,
Prince Buster,
The Misunderstood,
Index,
Organ,
Newcleus,
Qualms,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang Green,
Spandau Ballet,
Nirvana,
Can,
Guru Guru,
Public Enemy,
Zapp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minor Threat,
Fear,
Lalo Schifrin,
Buzzcocks,
Bob Dylan,
Yusef Lateef,
Pantytec,
Skriet,
Technova,
Nils Olav,
Model 500,
Parry Music,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Arab on Radar,
Ten City,
Lucky Dragons,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.