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 Belize and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gang Starr to the funk 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
John Holt,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Grass Roots,
John Foxx,
Hashim,
New Order,
the Slits,
The Index,
The Skatalites,
The Walker Brothers,
Dark Day,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
Maurizio,
48th St. Collective,
Alison Limerick,
The Vogues,
The Blues Magoos,
DJ Style,
KRS-One,
Skriet,
Todd Rundgren,
Ludus,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Invisible,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris Corsano,
Metal Thangz,
X-Ray Spex,
Ronan,
Desert Stars,
Grey Daturas,
Television Personalities,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang Green,
EPMD,
Radio Birdman,
Blossom Toes,
Roxette,
the Sonics,
Los Fastidios,
Jesper Dahlback,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Angels of Light,
Pere Ubu,
The Cowsills,
Black Moon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Model 500,
The New Christs,
Black Sheep,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Fania All-Stars,
10cc,
Japan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Altered Images,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.